


Lost Dog Days of Summer

by FawkesyLady (Tarma)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, Beaches, Comedy, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marauders' Era, Motorcycles, Road Trips, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-12 17:06:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15344481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarma/pseuds/FawkesyLady
Summary: It was the last true summer of their youth, but the fellowship of the Marauders was blighted by an act of thoughtless anger. Now, Sirius' gone missing and no one has seen him for more than a week. Where did he go, and just as importantly, does Remus really want to find him?AN:  While I agree with the community at large that the incident where Snape discovered up close and personally that Remus Lupin is a werewolf most likely occurred earlier in the Marauder's schooling, for the purpose of this story, it happened in the Spring of their sixth year.





	1. Prologue: The Best Laid Plans of Bucks and Lads

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Archangell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangell/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94718081@N05/42593207005/in/dateposted-public/)  
>   
> 

* * *

 

 

James, Remus, and Peter spent the first week of their summer as they would have any other - the volume of owl treats necessary to the task of staying in contact with one another was astounding as they worked to firmed up plans as they only had about sixty days in which to make their summer fantasies turn to reality.

 

It was that golden summer before their last year at Hogwarts, and James pointed out that it was for all intents and purposes, their very last obligation-free summer before Graduation, when they had to face the real world. Before they left school they’d spent hours thinking up schemes to get together and spend every moment possible soaking up each other’s company, and every pleasure. After all, they were wizards and the world was at their feet.

 

The four friends had endured a falling out two months prior, but James insisted on consulting all concerned, certain that they’d be able to mend the rift in time. They were, after all, the very best of friends the world had ever known. 

 

Wishes included:

  1. Beach time (Sirius)
  2. Camping and hiking (Remus)
  3. Con Lily into going on a roller coaster with me (James)
  4. Kiss a girl (Peter)



 

James Potter looked over the list he’d compiled on the second Monday of summer break and decided to get started on planning. It was simple to send out three owls, he’d come of age this year so he used _Gemino_ like a master.

 

* * *

 

 

_Gentlemen,_

_So where are we going to go first? Camping sounds good… or even camping on beaches! Anyone hear from Sirius? I’ve sent owls and nothing comes back. Time’s burning away…_

_Lily sent me a refusal and included an ad for female companionship for hire. I had no idea you could do that. When I asked if she had any experience with that sort of Muggle business she sent a howler. I won’t bore you with the details, but I guess asking how much she might charge an hour was in poor taste?_

__Prongs_ _

 

  
  
_Everybody,_

_Nothing here, but that’s not unusual, he usually runs after you lot._

_Merlin, James. You’re worse with witches than me!_

__Peter_ _

 

 

_Lads,_

_It has been a refreshing break, but no, I haven’t heard from the git. I haven’t tried owling either for obvious reasons._

_And classy, Prongs. Real classy._

__Moony_ _

 

  
  
_Gentlemen,_

_I’m continually surprised by women._

_Has it already been a full fortnight? Usually old Wallbooger is tired of tormenting him by now. Maybe he’s drinking the time away? I think that’s what he did for the winter hols. I was certain the fumes coming off of him would spontaneously combust on the train back._

_Remus, you’re entitled to be angry with him. What he did was incredibly stupid, unbelievably thoughtless, and highly dangerous. You heard his apology, he’d not thought it through. He’s a fool, but he’s our fool. Are you going to ever forgive him?_

__Prongs_ _

 

  
  
_Guys,_

_I see. You think that I am going to be able to forget, just like that?_

_I am fortunate that the Headmaster has Snape by the short hairs because otherwise right now “I’d be put down like the monster I am.” You were there. Snape is right, I am a menace, but it didn’t take him to remind me of that. Being used as a weapon by one of my best mates, that brought it home._

  _Fuck Sirius Black and damn you for making ME the villain in this._

__Remus J Lupin_ _

 

  
  
_Everyone,_

  _Wow, Moony. I see you haven’t cooled down, can’t say I blame you._

_Um, I wasn’t going to say anything but I noticed that the Blacks didn’t collect Sirius on the platform; they walked off with Regulus. I think he might have followed them, or at least I think that’s what he intended. He was acting oddly, well more than usual._

_I mean, I know he was giving you space, Moony, or I assumed that’s what it was about._

_Did you all know he dumped that girl, um. What was her name? Heather or something? I thought that he was sitting with her, but when I went to check on him, like you asked, James, she slammed the door in my face with a surprising string of insults that I wrote down to use later. Who knew Hufflepuffs had that sort of breadth of foul vocabulary?_

_I found him sitting in baggage, smoking. He told me to bugger off and then ignored me._

 

  _Anyway. Yeah. What a bastard._

__Peter_ _

 

  
  
_Gentlemen,_

_I don’t expect you to do anything, Remus J Lupin. I already acknowledged your legitimate right to your anger, and I don’t expect your feelings to change overnight. However, I am friend to you both, and this has been a massive strain on all of us, one whose blame lies squarely with Sirius. I haven’t forgotten that!_

_It has been over two months now. I said it before and say it again: I will not choose between you. We are blood brothers, and I love you both - Remus and Peter. Sirius is our brother too, and this is proof that no one can hurt us like the ones we love. What I am asking is for us to temporarily set aside our issues with Sirius for one moment, because I think he might be legitimately in danger._

_My mother, when she heard that Sirius hasn’t responded to what have been daily notes from me, went over to prevail upon her niece, with the plan to invite him over to get him out from under their feet. It turns out that he didn’t go home with them, and in fact he was formally disowned by the family on Christmas Day. A sort of present for Walburga. Can you believe that shit? “I have only one son.” Bitch actually said that._

 

_He’s gone, guys._

 

_Dad and Mum tried to file a missing wizard report, but you know how the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol is. They claimed that since he’s of age and there is nothing to suggest foul play, that there is no case until he’s been gone three months. We need to do it ourselves. What say you? My parents will help us. Come over as soon as may be._

__Prongs._ _

 

 

_Everybody,_

_Cor. I thought something was wrong, but I’d no idea. Sure, count me in._

_Peter_

 

_Lads,_

_On reflection, it stands to reason that it is difficult beat the tar out of Sirius Buttmunch if I don’t know where he is.  I suppose I will help you. You realise that the chances are pretty good he’s having a sulk and doesn’t wish to be found?_

__Remus_ _

 

  
_Gentlemen,_

_Yes, that would be Sirius’ style, but honestly I have to wonder what was his plan for the summer? He had no place to go and he’d not mentioned this to any of us. And you’re one to talk about sulking and self-flagellation, Moony! I may be James Potter but your kettle’s fucking Black._

__Prongs_ _

 

 


	2. Chapter One: Started Dog

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94718081@N05/28664562217/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

 

Joel was a simple man. He’d mustered out after completing two tours in Malaysia for Queen and Country in Operation Claret, and he found that he couldn’t stand to put down roots. Nowhere and everywhere was home to him, but he felt most alive when he had the wind in his face and an engine underneath him. He’d been a pilot, one of the very best. He and a like-minded mate of his, Simon, packed up their bikes and never looked back.

 

They’d been on the road for five years, and had found brotherhood and safety with what the uninitiated deemed, “Gangs.” It wasn’t hard to find a place. Just like in the Army, you mustered in, spent your time, and proved your worth.

 

Now Joel was known to have a particularly soft heart, although he could scowl with the best of them. He and Simon usually spent the summers riding from one end of the Island to the other and back up once more. Along the way he’d feed strays, lend a hand here and there. Sometimes he’d even intervene in a fight.

 

The alley beside the little pizza place was usually dark for a July day, and the wind whipped from the ocean and through the streets with the hot hellish sort of heat that drove most sane people indoors. It whistled and was loud enough that Joel almost missed the echoed yelps of pain.

 

“What’s this?” Joel squinted into the dim, stopping his nose against the rancid smell of the grease bin behind the place. He could just make out two teens standing over a shadowed figure on the ground.

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Gentry. What…” Simon fell silent as he too surveyed the deplorable tableau.

 

The teens turned about and on seeing the pair of rough men in black leather, proudly showing their patches, they did the intelligent thing and ran for it, escaping at the other end of the alley. Simon took off at a run after them, shouting, “Get back here you runty bastards! I’ve give you fight, ya little bitches!”

 

Joel’s attention was on what looked to be a very large black dog. The animal was panting shallowly and every exhalation was accentuated by a high, almost supersonic whine. It, rather _he_ , didn’t show any sign of aggression when Joel crouched down beside him.

 

A pair of silver eyes fixed on Joel’s face for a long moment. They were mesmerising.

 

The sound of a knife being drawn from its sheath brought Joel back to himself. Out of the corner of his eye he could make out Simon standing next to him, his breathing barely bothered by the sprint.

 

“He’s in a bad way, Gentry. Afraid you can’t save this one.” Simon proffered his combat knife, a wicked looking thing that was kept razor sharp. Its polished metal flashed in the dark.

 

They’d had to put animals down before, but Joel hated to do it. He turned back to the dog and muttered, “Come on, lad. We won’t hurt you.”

 

Groaning, Simon resheathed his knife.

 

Feather light, he ran his fingers down the animal’s spine, the contours underneath the soft fur revealing altogether too much rib and not enough meat. “Been lost for a while, I’d say.”

 

“He’s huge, Gen. Can’t be that hale to let two skinny cunts like that beat the fight out of him.” Simon always had a sharp eye for things and was a professional pessimist. He’d been in ops, so he knew how things could go pear shaped in a flat minute. While Joel trusted him, he’d also learned to take everything he said with a grain of salt.

 

Gaining confidence, he stroked the dog’s head, fingers still gentle and probing. Silver eyes opened once more and stared up at him. “What’s your name, I wonder?”

 

Defying the odds, the dog lifted his head and cautiously licked Joel’s hand, his tail twitching at the end once and twice.

 

A spate of cursing rose from behind him, and Joel could see Simon throw up his hands and walk away in the reflected mirrors of those intelligent eyes.

 

“Don’t you mind him, little brother. Come on, now. We have to move.”

 

As if he understood what was being said, the dog whuffed softly, an almost human sigh. Gentry had to get up and stand away as the dog shifted without warning and used his hind legs to lever himself up.

 

“Jumping jehosaphat! You’re as big as a bleeding pony!”

 

The dog opened his mouth to emit a wheezing sort of pant. The maw was big, and the pink tongue lolled to the side, displaying tolerably good teeth and gums speckled with black.

 

Joel backed away toward the main street, where his friend most likely sat waiting with the bikes. “Come on, now. Do you like chicken? I’ve some from last night, come along, then.”

 

Painstakingly, the pair made their way out of the alley and back to the quaint cobblestone street of the sea-side town. Simon’s eyes almost fell out of their sockets when he took in the sheer size of the beast. “I canna believe that you went into a dark alley and came out of there with that monster.”

 

A whine of distress distracted Joel from the choice cursing he intended to hand back again. “Oh no, you don’t. Come back, I’ve chicken that needs eating.” The dog had started to back away, ears back and tail between his legs.

 

“For cryin out loud, Joel. Let him be.”

 

“Shut it, Simon. He can ride in the sidecar, he won’t be a problem.” He turned back to the dog. “Will you, Louie?”

 

“Louie? Didn’t see tags.”

 

“No, just seems fitting. Found Louie-laddie in Looe town.”

 

“Daft. Completely raving mad.”

 

Joel’s smile widened, “Aye. Might be. But the good kind of raving. The good kind. What do you say, Louie? Care to go on the road for a stretch?”  

 

The ears tilted forward and those strange grey eyes fixed on Joel. He’d seen a lot in life, met many strange people and animals, but this weighted gaze laid his soul bare like none other, and Joel could do nothing but look back. The dog tilted his head to the side, and Joel was sure it was judging him. Then, the dog blinked and shuffled a step further, the spell broken.

 

One hand undid the flap on his leather saddle bag and Joel fished about for the remains of last night’s feast. He unwrapped the tin foil to reveal the cold chicken and waved for the dog to come over. “Easy, now.”

 

Louie limped closer, but from the bright attention, anyone could see the poor animal was very hungry. Now, a feral dog would have pulled the whole thing right out of Joel’s hand, but not this one. He sat down once he was close and looked expectantly, eyes switching from Joel’s face to the chicken in his hand and back again.

 

“He has pretty manners for a mongrel. You reckon someone is looking for him?” Simon watched idly, smoking a cigarette.

 

Joel was holding out a leg to Louie, mere inches from the dog’s muzzle. “It’s alright, lad. You can have it.”

 

Very carefully, Louie extended his neck, opened his powerful jaw, and took the leg gently in his teeth, waiting for Joel to let go.

 

The pair of men looked on as the animal stripped the leg bare. “Here now, don’t eat the bone…” Simon, the one who’d initially suggested they put the animal out of his misery was leaning down, his brow furrowed in concern. A chuckle from Joel pulled his attention away.

 

Simon wasn’t nearly as heartless as he pretended to be and hated it when people noticed. Joel smirked at his friend, earning himself a single-fingered salute.


	3. Chapter Two: Too Much Eye

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94718081@N05/41744031600/in/dateposted-public/)

 

 

* * *

 

Louie barely fit into the sidecar of Simon’s bike, and seemed to take to the helmet with surprising ease. The two men had to lift the big dog as he was still too sore to be persuaded to do so on his own power, even with the enticement of more chicken. Joel watched from behind in concern as Simon kicked off, travelling North.

 

The dog, in spite of the whining and yelps of pain it took to get him strapped in, settled and focused on looking about him with a great deal of curiosity, nose quivering.

 

Heat and the need to piss dictated a stop, and they found a spot under a lone copse of trees by the road. The black dog tried to jump out of the sidecar on his own without help as soon as Joel undid the strap they’d rigged to keep him in, but his legs couldn’t quite give the power needed to get out. Rather than wait for Simon, Joel put the dog’s paws on his shoulder and then lifted his hind legs out, letting him slide down his belly and get paw to hot pavement before easing him down the rest of the way. He was caught off guard when a long pink slobbery tongue licked him up the side of the face before he slipped out of range. “Ugh, right.”

 

Joel rubbed at the side of his face with the rag he kept in his pocket, scowling at Simon who was laughing outright.

 

“Damn, Gentry. He’s taller than you, and I think he’s taken a shine to you.”

 

“Sod off, Simon.”

 

Simon pulled out a cigarette and lit up, still chuckling as he took the first pull.

 

Louie’s tail was slowly wagging back and forth as he put nose to pavement, heading off towards the trees only a few paces away.

 

“Stay near, Lou!”

 

A deep whuff answered as the dog disappeared from view.

 

Simon was watching the road, his gaze abstracted. “He’s not so bad. Big, though. He’ll be expensive to feed.”

 

“I can cut down on fags, and maybe we can camp on the beach a few nights. I like the stars.” Gentry dug out his canteen of water and a tin pot he carried for heating up beans when they decided to rough it. The pot rang dully as it hit the gravel on the side of the road in the shade of his bike. The dog must have heard or been thirsty because he came limping back, appearing from the other side of the nearest tree. “You think your Nana will mind if I bring Louie along?”

 

Simon shrugged. “We’ll see when we get there. We’ve a few days yet.”

 

Louie lifted his wet muzzle to look directly at Simon and Gentry in turn, his tail drooping down for the first time since Gentry fed him earlier.

 

“He’s not been any trouble so far. Even as hurt as he was he could easily have bitten at least one of those kids in two. You know, I don’t think he’d hurt a fly.”

 

Tossing an end on the ground, Simon lifted a non committal shoulder. “Hasn’t been with us a day yet.”

 

Joel met the dog’s eyes and felt his heart tug painfully at the sad state the mastiff was in. “Don’t worry, Louie. We’ll get you fixed up. Do you like little old ladies? Aunt Mamie’s a sweet thing, but strict. No boots or dogs on the furniture.”

 

A tilt of the head to the side gave Joel the impression that the dog was considering the prospect, and it was a long moment of contemplation that made Gentry wonder what exactly was going through the big dog’s mind. Breaking the gaze, Louie sneezed once before dropping his muzzle down to lap up more water.  
  


* * *

 

The trio stopped at a chippy in Penzance. Simon, true to usual form, was obsessing about the details of where they were going to stay, highlighting the changes that had to happen to their plans because of Louie. They’d agreed to spend a few days in Skewjack after spending the night here. Simon already had ferreted out information from the locals about a camping ground not far for the water for today.

 

“He’ll need a proper collar. Can’t have people thinking he’s a stray.” Simon was watching as Joel threw chips to Louie who snapped them up with a quiet, intense enthusiasm. “I told you he’s going to eat a lot.”

 

Joel raised his eyebrows at Simon. “D’you still have the one the missus made you wear?” He was getting fed up with his friend’s constant needling about the big black dog.

 

The sardonic man’s ears turned red. “Dammit, Gentry. You know better than to mention Betty.”  He’d not broken the rule, ‘Thou shalt not mention Betty by name,’ but had certainly impinged on the spirit of it.

 

Snorting, Joel took a drink from the can of beer he’d purchased to wash down the chips with. It was all more expensive in the sea-side towns, but a man had his minimum standards. “It’s been two years, brother. Time to let her go, she forgot you before she left.” He was keeping an eye on the dog, who was in turn watching Simon’s half-eaten fish, forgotten for the moment.

 

Simon’s expression darkened. “I still love that heartless bitch. Kills me even now.”

 

“You’d take her back, then?”

 

It was with obvious pained patience that Louie watched and waited for his human rescuers to let more food drop, his ears stayed cocked.

 

His best friend closed his eyes against the bright sun of the July sky, thinking. “She’d have to earn my trust back, Gentry. A bloke can’t just forgive and forget something like that. Almost saw me bloody killed.” He spat onto the hot pavement. “Jesus I miss her, though.  There’s a hole, Betty-shaped, right here.” He double tapped his chest over his left breast with two fingers. “Ah, fuck. How did we get on _her_ again?“

 

“Dog collar for Lou, remember? She had that chain made, with the spikes on. No one would mess with our Louie in that.”

 

“Hate that fucking thing. Neckhair always gets caught in it. Looked pretty wicked on, I’ll grant you. She liked it.” His tone was unmistakably bitter.

 

“Why didn’t you get rid of it?”

 

“Maybe I hate waste. Sentimental bullshit aside.” He made a fist, knuckles cracking one by one. It was one of his trademark moves when he was starting to get truly annoyed. “Maybe I haven’t cleaned out me bags in five years. Take your feckin pick you nosey prick.” He’d turned to face Gentry, a nasty glint in his eye, one Gentry knew all too well.

 

Simon was a mean sonuvabitch when provoked, and nothing set him snarling like Betty. Gentry knew better, but he’d been feeling edgier and edgier and couldn’t stop himself from pushing back. He held up his hands. “I can find a different collar.” He cast a glance at the canine in question.

 

Louie’s velvet black nose was quivering. Sometime during their distraction, he’d edged closer and closer to Simon’s forgotten trove of fish and chips, set down on the table, the newspaper dripping with grease. He noticed Joel looking at him just as he was stretching out his neck to nab a piece of fish. The animal froze in place. It looked rather comical with his mouth part way open, pink tongue hanging out, and silver eyes round in shock at being caught in the act.

 

“Keep a lot hanging about your person, then?” Simon hadn’t noticed Louie.

 

Shaking his head slightly at the great mastiff, Joel didn’t answer Simon. There wasn’t going to be a damned thing he could do right, best to change the subject unless he was up for a fight. He decided that while he could use a good spar, he didn’t know how the dog would react. Could be a massive mistake, now that he actually thought about it.

 

Simon scowled at everything and nothing. Idly, he flicked his cigarette butt towards the bin, missing it.

“Life’s a fag and the better part of it has already been spent.”

 

Ah, now he was paraphrasing Shakespeare. He’d heard that one before, variations of it in any case. Squinting into the summer sky Joel tried to read the weather. “I think I’d like to sleep under the stars tonight.  Think we can make it around by dusk?”

 

Louie was chewing happily, slobber flecking the sides of his jaws. He’d had the sense to edge back away from the scene of the crime. He’d managed to snag a lump of fish.

 

Shrugging, Simon absentmindedly picked up a chip. He’d immediately earned Louie’s undivided attention. Man and dog locked eyes, and the dog appeared to be trying to look smaller, hunching a bit and wagging his tail. With a snort of amusement, Simon tossed the chip to Louie, who caught it neatly and made it disappear in one gulp. “Mental.”


	4. Chapter Three: Left Hand Drive

 

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94718081@N05/41744031410/in/dateposted-public/)

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning came too early for Joel. They’d set up a fire on the beach and slept on the dry, hot sand. Fleas and other biting insects made their presence known, but Simon’s cigarette smoke warded away much of them.

 

It wasn’t the cuckoo-like cries of the plovers, or the lap of the waves that woke Joel from a deep sleep. Hot dog breath layered with the reek of wet dog roused him moments before he was smacked on the gob by a wriggling, live fish held firmly in the mastiff’s jaw.

 

“AUGH, Louie!”

 

The mutt dropped the fish on Joel’s chest before trotting back towards the surf. Joel spluttered, grasping the whiting by its tail before smartly whacking its head on a nearby log. He had to spit, as some sand showered onto his beard.

 

Squinting, he could just make out the dark shape of the dog who had his nose down, tail up and looked to be stalking something. “Blimey. Simon, lookit this.”

 

Pulling his jacket up over his head, Simon greeted Joel with a muffled, “Fuck off.”

 

Yes, well. He wouldn’t likely wake up just yet. Joel creaked upwards and after puttering about the usual ritual of finding a spot to piss, he returned to find Louie returned with another prize, firming gripped in his jaw. “I’ll be a son of a sea sucking sunfish!”

 

The dog lifted a single eyebrow, ears flattening.

 

“What do you mean to do with that, laddie?”

 

If Joel didn’t know better, he’d think that Louie was looking over at Simon with a glimmer of mischief in his eye. Ears perked, Louie looked back at him.

 

Quickly, Joel pointed back to the surf. “Not today, bucko. Fish only. I’m not up for crab and that wouldn’t be more than two mouthfuls anyway.” And he wasn’t inclined to let him drop his gift on his grumpy friend.

 

Ears flattening down once more, Louie turned away and trotted back to the surf. He watched as Louie turned about twice and then opened his jaw, letting the agitated crustacean fly back to the water in a gracefully curving arch, touching down with a splash.

 

Joel liked the seaside, and he preferred pebble beaches to the white sands he’d seen in the service. Building the fire back up wasn’t too difficult, and he set about cleaning the fish that Louie had hunted up for them. Before Louie picked his way back up the dunes to them, Simon rolled out of bed with much grumbling.

 

Louie had managed to trap another whiting, although Joel couldn’t be certain of how the dog was so lucky. This one was larger and was set down, still strong.

 

“That’s uncommonly useful, Gentry.” Simon stood nearby, back to the wind as he lit up a cigarette, his second for the morning.

 

Joel was baking the first fish and accepted the second, this time to his hand and not his face with a grunt of thanks. “Yup.”

 

A battered tin kettle sat nestled in the coals, waiting for Simon to finish his fag. It was starting to whistle, weak. Louie looked on in interest.

 

“We’ve a crust left of that bread, yeah?”

 

“What, for the gulls?”

 

“Toast, ya daft bastard. What else?”

 

“Sandwiches?”

 

“Maybe. I suppose that’d be easier to eat.” There was a beat before Joel caught up. “It is too fecking early for puns.” He grumbled, “Sandwich if your luck runs out.”

 

Laughing, Simon gestured Louie over. “Here, boy. I’ve summat for you.” The chromed chain and wicked spikes reflected the soft yellows of the morning light. The sun hadn’t fully cleared the horizon just yet.

 

The great black dog moved more carefully than before, fish wriggling in his jaw. He dropped the fish at Simon’s feet and sat down, tail wagging just at the tip.

 

Cautious, Simon held up the collar, fingers extending so that it was open and evident. “What do you think of this, Lou?” The spikes on it were short but sharp looking, the chain forming the collar was formed of wide links, each spike forged in place.

 

Louie sniffed at the collar for a moment before sneezing.

 

“It’ll make you part of our crew, and we can’t have you looking too tame. Have to keep up the image, see?” Simon flexed a bare arm, bringing attention to the tattoos there.

 

Joel retrieved the fish from the ground as its attempts to escape grew weaker, and as he bent he found Louie’s face in his own, dog breath in spades. Those eyes seemed hesitant, asking for approval. “It’s okay Louie.”

 

The dog shuffled closer and sat still while Simon settled the collar into place, his tail wagging more emphatically now.

 

Simon finished off by scratching the mastiff’s ears and was rewarded with wet dog kiss to the face. “Ugh… Louie! Cut that out!” Out of desperation to distract the slobbering mutt, Simon found a shapely piece of driftwood and tossed it away. “Do you like fetch, boy?”

 

“Arf!” The dog leapt up and pranced about, still favouring the leg. He watched, waiting for the stick to try and escape.

 

Wiping his face on his grungy white shirt, Simon lobbed the stick down the beach, almost to the water’s edge. “Go get it!”

 

Louie didn’t require the command, he was already off and running.

 

Joel watched as the poor animal scampered down to catch the fugitive object. He’d figured out how to run without bothering the leg, holding the one up off of the ground. It created a sort of odd canter quality to the animal’s movement. The smile on his friend’s face was a reflection of the animal’s joy, like the rising sun set the calm Devon surf sparkling.

 

It struck Joel then, that this moment felt so right, as though they’d always meant to be like this. Their little brotherhood expanded from two to three with the addition of one huge black dog.


	5. Chapter Four: Away to Me

  
[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94718081@N05/43548062321/in/dateposted-public/)

 

* * *

  

Remus stood over the remains of a fire, several days old. His friends could be heard in the distance, calling for Sirius. They had been searching for over a week and at last, given nothing else to do, they’d decided to start combing the beaches, looking for their lost friend.

 

The full moon was approaching, and he could feel the changes deep within himself. His wolf, Moony, was gnawing at the edges of his mind, already pressing for dominance.

 

It had been two moons since he’d last run with Sirius. The first had been spent in isolation, as his usual companions were in front of the Headmaster, unable to join him. The second was attended by James and Peter alone, as Remus made it clear that he didn’t want Sirius around. The following morning, Remus knew Moony was not in agreement at all, because to the wolf Padfoot was more than friend or brother.  

 

By the light of the full moon, Padfoot was Moony’s mate. During daylight hours, the two had never progressed beyond the awkward dance of dominance. Remus held back always, certain that Sirius would not or could not return his regard.  He was quite popular with the witches, and seemed to date as much.

 

One could not reason with wolves on these points. Moony didn’t perceive the betrayal, as he’d have happily ripped Snape’s throat out and damn the consequences. Snape was harrying his mate, and by the wolf’s accounting already earned his demise ten times over. He was _not prey._

 

Remus accepted that his transformations would be more painful, that Moony would be harder to control without his friends around him. He’d resigned himself to returning to the cages of his childhood, as he did every summer. He had not anticipated the building anger and conflict that was growing inside. The primal urge to find, dominate, and return his mate to his side was driving him to distraction. He was irritable, and had already been in several fist fights this week. It was getting out of hand.

 

Peter was the first to return, his face moist with sweat and flushed. “Nothing.” He leaned down, hands on his knees, looking at the ashes. “What’s this?”

 

A growl escaped his throat, and Remus coughed, trying to cover the sound. When he did speak, his voice was gruff, “He was here.”

 

The way Peter eyed him made Remus feel certain that he wasn’t fooling the rat. “That’s… good? Isn’t it, Moony? We have been looking for our friend, yes our friend Sirius. Haven’t we?” The timid fellow tore his eyes away, as if something in Remus’ face frightened him. Moony wanted to nip him and see if he ran. _Prey._

 

Remus took a deep calming breath, choosing not to answer Peter directly. Instead, he jerked his head towards a dune a ways over. “Padfoot‘s scent was quite pungent over there. I’ve no doubt that we’ve found the trail.”

 

Eyes wide, Peter nodded and trotted off to locate James who had gone the opposite direction, beating a hasty retreat. _Prey._

 

The odours of the sea, of smoke, and littered cigarette ashes all worked together to confound the trail, but further up in the brush the markings and spoor left behind were decisive. So were the scents of more than one other human male; strangers who smelled of motor oil, cheap beer, and sweat. Moony’s hackles were up, he was gagging for a fight.

 

It was all Remus could do to stay rooted to the spot and wait for his friends.

  


* * *

 

“WaaaaaahoooooooOOO!”

 

Joel felt closest to free when he was travelling at insane speeds, be it with a powerful motor underneath him or in the air, piloting a chopper. This was especially true when he had to manoeuvre around curves or unfavourable thermals. He loved the dance, the strength and grace of it, even if it were lent to him by machines.

 

The road they were taking had led them high on a cliff initially, but now they were winding down, back and forth on narrow switchbacks that led down to the beaches below. Louie took to it like a duck to water, leaning with Simon’s turns as though he’d been doing it all of his life.

 

Both men ended up needing to take several circuits of the large parking lot at the bottom, shouting like wild animals, mastiff barking and howling right along with them.

 

The bond between the little group was growing stronger with every passing day. This was their fifth day on the road together.

 

Louie was getting stronger, and was now able to put weight on his hind leg with less obvious pain. With the return of his health, the mastiff was proving to be quite the trouble maker.

 

Simon had taken to playing fetch in the mornings, on the second day he ended it when the dog brought back a bikini top.

 

Joel howled with laughter when Simon told him the tale of having to return the object to a mortified woman, especially when he mentioned that Louie managed to reach her first, lavishing her with apologetic puppy kisses. It would have been more effective, Simon opined, if the lady had noticed the top missing _before_ she sprung up to fend the enthusiastic canine off. Louie didn’t look terribly repentant, and when it came to it, Joel was fairly certain that Simon wasn’t sorry either. He’d asked her out on a date, after all.

 

The third day Simon waited until later in the day to throw the first stick. After an hour the mastiff had brought back several lobsters (it was a low tide), and a string of beer cans that someone must have left in the water to chill. Shrugging, Simon popped a tab and toasted their dog. He was certainly earning his keep.

 

That night there was a bonfire on the beach, mostly kids who were decades younger than the two men. Louie was an excellent ambassador, his happy personality luring in the pretty girls, and his huge teeth and low growl warning away troublemakers. Gentry stole a few kisses in exchange for pretty words and a few dances, nothing serious. It was nice to have someone watching his back for once, for wherever he went, Louie was nearby.

 

For his part, Simon sweet-talked a pair of ladies into going on a walk to “look for firewood.” Joel could have sworn that Louie’s bark when the tired man returned looking rather self-satisfied and limping was the dog version of mocking laughter.

 

The following morning it fell to Joel to toss the stick as Simon needed a bit of a lie in. Joel must have been tired too, because he woke up when Louie dropped a child’s sand pail full of cold water on his head. When he’d jumped up to his feet to chase the dog, who was of course too fast for him, he’d tripped over a veritable shrine of found objects. There was a stack of sticks, shells, glass bottles - all of which were disappointingly empty, a number of mismatched sandals, a pack of fags that was open but still mostly full and miraculously dry, a straw hat adorned with fake fruit (how did the dog manage to get that onto Joel’s head without waking him?) and most worrisome, a strange black rubber object that looked just like a penis.

 

It was this last “find” that had Joel chasing the ridiculous animal down the beach, shouting and red-faced. In retrospect, he probably should have just let Louie have the damn thing, but he blamed the animal for getting them evicted from the beach. It wasn’t his fault the bloody dog had thought it was appropriate to drop the thing at the feet of the bobby who’d been called to investigate the disturbance.

 

Not wishing to spend the night in the slammer, Joel rolled Simon out of their tent and they set off down the road within the hour. Simon was nursing a hangover, and so they’d decided to find a place and pay for a room for the night. It wasn’t easy, but after some looking they managed to secure a place in a seedy hotel down the road, away from the beach. It was owned by the policemen’s ex-wife, and hadn’t been maintained up to family standards for years. The receptionist was a thin, sallow woman who seemed to invite no nonsense. In short, the Tuck Inn was the perfect dive for two bachelors and wasn’t too posh for well behaved pets.

 

It was in the early hours of the morning that Joel woke to a sudden, low growl at the door. There was some kind of a commotion down the hallway. At first, Joel was inclined to try and ignore it, but the noise was getting louder and nearer.

 

Simon flipped the light on. When Joel opened his mouth to speak, Simon held up a single finger for silence. Louie backed away from the door, his lips pulling back to reveal long, sharp fangs.

 

Someone was crying out now, shrieking in heights of distress. Then the door shuddered with a loud bang, as something or someone slammed into it.

 

Both men flowed into action at once, Simon tossing Joel a slim length of metal they used as a deterrent, pulling out one of his own. Louie remained focused on the door, head held tucked, body crouched and ready to spring as Simon took a hold of the door handle.

 

A body tumbled in with a yelp of shock, his hands held over his head. The main was short and thick with a sallow complexion. His hair was stringy and ginger, and he watched with watery eyes that had huge bags beneath them. He reminded Joel of a bloodhound, one who’d been caught widdling in his kennelmaster’s morning tea.

 

Two dangerous-looking men in long black cloaks stood, looking murderous. Neither had a weapon in hand, although one was fiddling with his sleeve as though there might be something secreted therein.

 

“Oi, what’s this all about?” Simon stepped out into the hall over the prone man.

 

“None of your business, mate.” The taller of the two assailants clenched his hamlike fists, and the gesture made a creak like that of old saddle leather bending under a great deal of force.

 

Louie growled once more and advanced into the hallway, leaving Joel standing still in the room. He used a foot to encourage the stunned victim further into the room and clear of the door. He was watching Louie with wide, fearful eyes.

 

In a deceptively casual tone, Simon answered, “I rather think it is, _mate_. You woke us up. Made a fuss.” He patted the lead pipe in one hand to emphasize each statement. One corner of his mouth lifted in a leer as Louie let loose with a short but power series of barks. “And my dog doesn’t like you.”

 

The fiddly man took a step back, prompting Louie to take a step closer, his growl now low and continuous. The huge mastiff was menacing and Joel fleetingly wondered if he was going to be able to handle the beast if he attacked. Not taking his eyes off of the dog, the man hissed in heavily accented English, “Runcorn, not in front of the Muggles.”

“I think I can take them.” The taller, more muscular man glowered back at Simon. “They don’t look so tough.”

 

Joel stepped fully into the hallway, shifting into a defensive stance, lead pipe held in one hand, the other in a guard. He wasn’t as tall as this Runcorn bloke, but he had easily several more stone of weight. The practised brawler in him felt that he was evenly matched.

 

Spinning the pipe in his hand, Simon chuckled lowly. “You two are clearly stupid. Do yourselves a favour and shove off.”

 

Red heat rose in Runcorn’s face and he growled, “You arrogant sons of bitches. How dare you…”

 

*CRACK* Loud and percussive enough to be mistaken for actual gunfire, the sound made Joel’s ears ring which dominated the frozen silence that took its place.

 

Joel looked for Louie, a moment of panic making his heart seize. What if someone shot at Louie? He wasn’t growling, and the great mastiff had turned to see what new threat was bearing down on them. The dog straightened and his ears pricked up in attention. Joel glanced in both directions. Enemies on both sides made him itch, but what he saw coming up the hall made him look twice.  

 

There stood a white-haired man in a purple velveteen suit. He had a short, well trimmed beard, and a twinkle in his eye that suggested either complete control or utter madness. Joel was rather in favour of the latter given his dress but there was also something deeply dangerous behind the pleasant, white smile that he presented to the group. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

 

As a unit, the two men in black backed away. There were stairwells at either end of the hallway.

 

The man’s tacky dark green snakeskin boots made a clacking sound as he advanced on the scene. “Ah, I have not arrived too late, I trust?”  

 

Louie’s growling redoubled and he started to stalk towards the two strange men as they edged towards the stairwell.

 

“Time to go.” Karkaroff tossed something small and made of cloth at Louie.

 

A flash of white blinding light emanated from the missile before Joel could make contact with his pipe, not for lack of trying. His eyes were dazzled and started to water. “Damn you bastards! Get back here!” One hand found the wall, and the other held the pipe up before him.

 

“Sirius. I am not certain what you think you are doing, but know that you can always come back to the castle.”  

 

A solid furry body leaned against Joel’s side, and he could feel the tentative sniffing at his hands. Louie was here, but who is this Sirius bloke?

 

“What was that light? Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Simon’s voice betrayed his agitation. He was really getting riled up.

 

“Mr Fletcher, I think you should come with me. We have much to discuss.” The voice was moving nearer. “I thank you both for helping my ally here out of that marmalade. Jolly good of you.”

 

A new, gravely voice spoke, “Albus, I’m sorry…”

 

“We will talk in a short while, Mr Fletcher. Say thank you to these three gentlemen and we’ll be on our way.”

 

“Mm. Thank ye. Wasn’t for you I’d have had my face transfigured by now.”

 

What? Joel opened his mouth to ask, but Simon spoke first. “Don’t like seeing anyone getting kicked about like a can in an ally. Didn’t seem gentlemanly; two on one. Well, be more mindful of people like that. They weren’t that bright, threatening us like that but sometimes stupid grunts are worse. Not sure what you did Fletchy, but I’d steer right wide of them.”

 

Joel’s vision was still dazzled so he wasn’t quite sure that he imagined an exchanged look and nod between Louie and the purple suit before the men left, going the other way.

 

“Oi, are you going to be able to get out of here, need us to walk you out?”

 

“No thank you, Simon. We’re just a few steps away from home. I am sure that we are quite safe.”

 

Later, Simon spoke softly into the dark. “Gentry? How’d that queer fellow know my name?” It was a question that neither man could answer.

 

Both men slept with their pipes under their pillows that night, and Joel felt quite glad for their newest member who took it upon his shaggy self to sleep in front of the door.

 

What a good dog, Joel thought as he drifted off to sleep. Why had the big animal failed to defend himself from those lousy kids?

  


* * *

 

Joel rather liked the way that Louie wore the old German helmet and goggles that Simon placed on him earlier that day. At the time, the sardonic man implied it was to stop the pup from whining about the wind, but Joel rather thought it was sweet to see him taking to Louie so well. The sight seemed to attract a lot of positive attention from the fairer sex at least. Simon basked in it. Louie didn’t seem to mind either.

 

The grey intelligence in Louie’s eyes was astounding and Joel tried not to think too much about exactly how strangely tolerant the mastiff was of Simon’s fancies. He didn’t try to get the goggles off even once. In fact, he could have sworn he saw the dog using the edge of the sidecar to push them into better position. They’d taken a break at a public beach and a squad of teenage girls spotted Louie from the moment they arrived. Many girls received puppy kisses. Many polaroids were shaken.

 

It was a crying shame when the matron who’d been chaperoning the group caught up with her voice like nails on a chalkboard and a marvelous gigantic fruit hat with veils threatening to topple under a stiff wind.

 

Louie’s tail hadn’t stopped wriggling in delight even when the woman herded the girls away.  “Aruff?”

 

Simon was watching the old bag of sticks clucking and shouting at the girls to get packed up. “What’s that, boy?”

 

Tipping back a canteen of water, Joel watched as Louie danced a few steps towards the woman who had come to a halt, back turned. The fruit tower of Pisa was tipping backwards.

 

“Wuff aruff.” Bounce forward and bounce back. Waggle waggle. What was the daft canine up to now? He wanted to play, Joel knew that at least. Louie was recovering from his wounds at a remarkable rate.

 

“We can go find a stick on the beach, Louie. Give us a moment of silence for the tragic loss those poor birds suffer at the hands of propriety.”

 

Sighing, Simon shook his head. “I feel for those poor girls. Witch like that, sucking all of the fun out of life. Too bad someone can’t change her mind about heading back. Day’s still young, innit?”

 

Before Joel could reply, a strong gust of wind buffeted everyone in the parking lot, sending the hat tipping even more precariously.

 

Louie was off like a lightning strike! All Joel could do was gape as the great mastiff did a circuit for speed and then leapt into the air, his huge jaws snatching the falling hat before it hit the ground. He spun on landing and sat down, hat in his mouth, tail waggling.

 

Here followed a moment where even the wind held its breath as realisation set in to all who had seen. The now hatless woman snatched at her head and screeched, “That lousy mongrel! Get him, girls! My haaaat!”

Simon broke into a belly laugh, and the race to capture the hat began.

 

It took the better part of an hour to corner Louie. The chaperone had lost control of the girls who had not been able to tolerate staying on the bus and had exited under the pretense of helping.  They couldn’t catch Louie either, and ended up covered in sand. Naturally after the first girl plunged back into the surf, all of the others had to do the same, and once more the little bay was decorated with ridiculous girls floating on the waves and cheering the black beast onwards.

 

At the last, the dog trotted over to the elderly matron who’d collapsed into a chair, wilting. He’d politely dropped the hat into her lap, startling her into spilling her tea. Both Simon and Joel made apologies to the dreadful woman earlier, and it was decided that they’d leave before she’d filled her sails once more with the winds of self-righteous ire.  It was an opportunity for a tactical retreat, and all three heroes were off with choruses of thanks ringing in their ears.


	6. Chapter Five: Take Time

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94718081@N05/42830271744/in/dateposted-public/)

 

 

* * *

 

“Gentry.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Aunt Mamie’s how old again?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know. She knew my parents when they were kids, they called her the same thing. Maybe ninety? A spry ninety. She always says it is because of the herring she eats.”  

 

“So I suppose it would be a problem that she’s up on the roof?”

 

“Hell’s bells!”

 

The two bikes didn’t slow down as they made the turn into the estate drive, and each man hastily parked. Simon was faster and circled the house, shouting, “Miss Mamie! Don’t worry. We’ll get you down!”

 

Louie already had shown himself capable of getting out of the harness of the side car and was wriggling, trying to toss off helmet and goggles.

 

Sliding into the little park at the top of the hill, Joel was close on Simon’s heels. Waiting for Louie to succeed or give up, he spared a look for St Bride’s Bay. It was another hot day in Pembrokeshire, but the wind made it more bearable. This was one of his last happy childhood places. Mamie’s place was a monument that stood unchanging in spite of the years. His parents succumbed to the ravages of time in years past and the old Pembroke cottage stood empty. No, that wasn’t home. Not like here.

 

A cold, wet nose bumped into his hand and he recalled his surroundings. Down on one knee, Joel carefully untangled the straps of the helmet, the goggles, and Louie’s collar. Louie sat patiently as Joel sank his fingers into the hot black fur. “You must be broiling, Louie m’lad.”

 

Louie snorted a puff of hot dog breath into Joel’s face but didn’t pull away.

 

The fur was soft, and Joel found the collar had snagged in places. Clucking under his breath, he traced the snarls encased in metal unhappily with a thick, dirty finger. “Whats this? Can’t be comfortable.”

 

Louie started to pull back then, but Joel took hold of the collar. “Hold on, lad. Aunt Mamie’s not going to like it. You have to admit, it won’t be the same as charming a gaggle of schoolgirls on holiday.” He shook the collar gently. “You need to be on your best behaviour for us. Do you think you can do that? Be a good boy for a few days?”

 

Stilling under the gesture, Joel found Louie looking back at him, eye to eye. It was a solemn gaze, devoid of the playfulness of earlier. A moment later, Louie shut his eyes and lowered his head, letting Joel undo the heavy clasp.

 

A feeling of bereavement washed over Joel, and it took a moment for him to reorient himself. “Louie?”

 

The dog sat, tail tucked under him, unnaturally quiet.

 

“What is wrong with you?” Getting an idea, Joel turned and searched about his bag, resurfacing with a faded black bandana, Joel’s favourite.  It was fraying and the white skulls on it had aged to a natural ivory, but he hadn’t felt able to give it up. It seemed right for this situation. “Ah, what do you think about this? It is going to barely fit but it might suit you. Aunt Mamie would want you in a collar of sorts.”

 

Those silver eyes regarded Joel, head tipping to the side in inquiry.

 

“Can’t have her thinking you’re wild. You’re one of the family, now.” Joel chuckled. “Well, alright. She isn’t likely to be fooled, but let’s try anyway.”

 

Some of the life was back in Louie’s eyes and he wriggled his way over to Joel, great muzzle sniffing in interest as Joel brought the cloth closer. As Joel worked, Louie rested his head against the man’s belly, which was softening as he aged, rounding out like ripening melon. Finished, the two sat together, Louie accepting Joel’s petting.

 

“I wonder. Has anyone told you what a good boy you are?”

 

A distinct whine escaped the great big dog, and somehow he managed to shrink in the psychological space between them.

 

“You are, Louie. You are a very good dog. Last night you showed me that. Today you did too.”

 

The mastiff’s pink tongue slipped out as though he was going to lick Joel, but it disappeared once more just as quickly. He lowered his head and gave a tentative wag.

 

“Oh, you’ve a mischievous spirit and I’ll warrant it has landed you into trouble before.” Joel let his fingers slide down the dog’s spine, feeling for the scars he knew were there. He’d seen them, felt them before, rough skin crossed over with smooth. He’d found strange bite scars, half-moons standing out on the mastiff’s throat too. “More than a spot of trouble.” Had his previous owners used him in dog fights? The thought sickened him.

 

“That’s alright. You’re with us now.”

 

Joel wasn’t surprised when Louie licked his face. Laughing, Joel lost his balance and fell to the side. A grown man was being licked to death by a giant black puppy.

 

“Good, boy, Louie! Good boy, now let me up.”

 

Louie backed off and then shifted behind Joel to push up with his forehead, shoving Joel almost hard enough to land on his knees.

 

“Awk! Cut that out, I’m not legless!”

 

A bark escaped Louie and he scrambled over to a patch of grass and rolled in it, the picture of canine ecstasy. The change in the animal’s demeanour had Joel’s head spinning.

 

Not wanting to keep Aunt Mamie waiting, Joel clicked and patted his hip, calling Louie to his side. Man and mastiff stomped down towards the house, together.

 

* * *

 

 

Joel found Aunt Mamie sitting on the patio, supervising Simon’s work on the roof. He approached her and kissed her on the cheek, accepting her distracted greeting.

 

“Hello, dear. Nice of you to drop in. I see you two are still thick as thieves?”

 

“Yes, Ma’am.”

 

Sharp brown eyes slid over to examine more closely and she sniffed once. “You smell like…”

 

Joel had to step back in surprise as the elderly woman leapt up and let out an unholy shriek that he’d never expected out of a woman who’d always been unflappable.

 

“A grim!” She was pointing now with one finger at Louie, who had retreated behind Joel.

 

The great black mastiff looked as frightened as she was, and Joel could feel the trembling in the dog’s frame as it leaned into his side. He really was as large as some ponies.

 

“Great Caesar's Ghost! Warn a man, why don’t you?” Simon was clutching at his chest with one hand, holding onto the chimney with the other.

 

Planting her hands on her hips, Aunt Mamie transformed from shrieking harridan to strict marm once more. “Simon Christopher, language!”

 

“Sorry, Aunt Mamie.”

 

Taking a breath, the elderly woman turned her attention back to Joel.  “Now, what have you dragged in with you this time?”

 

Wincing, Joel reached back blindly and tugged gently on a hank of fur, coaxing Louie to step into full view. “Aunt Mamie, I’d like to introduce you to Louie.”

 

“... trick is this…” The woman was muttering as she inspected the refugee. Joel was considering alternative possibilities as she scowled. Well, he could just sleep out under the stars if she wouldn’t have Louie in the house.

 

Straightening to her full four foot eleven, she seemed to come to a conclusion of sorts. “Where did you find this remarkable beast, Joel? Some graveyard, I suppose?”

 

Eager to explain, Joel patted Louie fondly. “No, he was being roughed up by some urchins in Looe. Decided to take him with us, right Simon?”

 

The woman stood, staring down at Louie. “Hmm. Come closer, Louie. Let’s have a look at you.”

 

Groaning internally, Joel prayed that the dog hadn’t been scared out of his wits by the scream earlier.

 

“Tut tut. I’m not going to bite.” She waved the dog closer, and he did at last move away from Joel’s protection. The animal moved with an air of caution, each step slow and deliberate.

 

Simon appeared at Joel’s shoulder. “Go on, Louie. She’s the queen here. Best manners, yeah?”

 

Louie sat down and looked steadily into the formidable lady’s face.

 

“Well, Louie. I doubt that is your name, truly. Welcome to Cartref yr Awel. I offer the courtesies of shelter, food, and hearth. I expect you to respect my rules and bring no misfortune on me or mine. Are you agreeable?”

 

Joel’s jaw dropped as Louie sniffed once, sat up and offered Aunt Mamie a paw to shake.

 

It seemed to be the right thing to do as the stern lines of the elderly woman’s face softened and she cracked a thin smile. “Ah. A well-mannered stray at least.” She glanced over, “He’s to stay off of the furniture. He must bathe before he comes inside.” She squinted at Joel, a significant look that suggested he could use the same treatment.

 

Simon was already looking back at the roof, wiping his brow. “You’re going to have to help me up here, Gentry. What Aunt Mamie thought she was going to do by herself I can’t tell you.”

 

Rocking back on his heels Joel hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “Well, maybe later. I need to help Simon with this. I’ll be two shakes, Louie. Ma’am.”

 

Joel could hear the elderly woman muttering as he walked away, and he shook his head. She must be getting senile. She never talked aloud to herself like that before.


	7. Chapter Six: Come Bye

 

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94718081@N05/29684334368/in/dateposted-public/)

 

 

* * *

 

 

Three boys huddled into a booth, in the first Cafe they could find that had any space. The pub down the street was too noisy, and this place wasn’t a lot better. Teenage girls chatted excitedly. The place reeked of the sea, and Remus couldn’t blame the woman scowling behind the counter. The whole place was dusted over with sand.

 

“What kind of dog do you think that was?”

 

“Bloody brilliant, that’s what. The way he kept Madam Trist busy was a godsend.”

 

“I thought I was going to melt in the bus!”

 

“Those guys looked pretty rough, though.”

 

“Yeah. I bet they’re gang members, Penny.”

 

Gasps went up all around.

 

Peter and James were not paying attention, pulling out pocket change and counting, pouring over the menu. Remus’ attention locked onto the conversation behind them.

 

“But the puppy was sooooo cute.”

 

“Mary, he weighed as much as you. He was a brute and I think his behaviour was shameful. Those thugs who brought him must have put him up to it.”

 

“I don’t think they were that bad. They did try to help. It was the dog that was badly behaved.”

 

“He was only _playing_.”

 

“Ugh. For a whole hour? We all had to get back in the water. Now look at us.”

 

“Look at this picture, Betty. I really think you look cute in this one.”  

 

That voice was right by Remus’ ear so he took a chance and turned, craning his neck to see. A girl with blonde ringlets had an array of photos spread out before her. Nearly every single one featured a heart-wrenchingly familiar furry face.  

 

“Can I take it to show Mum?”

 

Remus took a chance and cleared his throat. “Excuse me. Where did you find that unusual dog?”

 

The girls, all six of them, turned and regarded Remus with wide eyes. Great. Sheep. No wonder Sirius had them running up and down the beach for an hour. Herding instincts aside, he narrowed his eyes and snatched up a picture that was rather close, and gave a good view of a silver spiked collar about his friend’s neck. Anger flared up at the sight. Who would dare collar Padfoot? Why would Sirius let them?

 

Suppressing a growl of frustration, Remus pressed on, “I only ask because he looks a lot like my dog. He went missing two weeks ago.”

 

Penny was a brown skinned girl with braided rows of crinkly hair. She spoke first, the bellwether of the group. “What’s his name, then?”

 

Swallowing, Remus considered what to tell them, noticing James at his side. After James urged him on with a fractional nod, he supplied the answer. “Padfoot, his name is Padfoot.”

 

A girl sniggered, “That’s an odd name.”

 

James turned on the full power of his considerable charm and smiled broadly, offering a hand. “I’m James Potter, ladies and this is my friend Remus Lupin.”

 

Peter was leaning over Mary’s shoulder as he squeaked in his own introduction, “And I’m Peter.” He laughed nervously, “Peter Pettigrew.”

 

By the time the girl’s introductions were made, James offered to buy all of the group a fountain drink and was admiring Mary’s photographs. “He’s Remus’ pet but I named him. We’ve been together for years, you know. How long ago did you take these?” He was using the 200 watt smile that never worked on Lily.

 

“Oh, about three hours, maybe four.”

 

Remus ground his teeth. So close. If they left immediately they might pick up the trail.

 

An elbow dug into Remus’ ribs, and James caught his eyes, holding the gaze a long moment. “We _will_ get him back home, mate.” Remus sometimes forgot how intimidating he was. He really should let James do the talking.

 

Betty lowered her lashes. “He was a very slobbery dog. You should teach him not to kiss ladies like that.” She favoured Remus with a saucy grin.

 

Unable to restrain himself, Remus growled. An intense instinct to hunt and dominate threatened to overwhelm his control. It was too close to the full moon and his wolf was very strong. Padfoot was his!

 

The girl’s smiles were disappearing and Betty shied away, eyes round in shock.

 

James pulled Remus back, and moved to partially place himself in front of the girls. “As you can see, Remus is pretty broken up about it. You see, Padfoot had been very naughty and I think he took Remus’ scolding to heart. He’s still quite puppyish.”

 

Hasty words spoken in righteous anger popped into Remus’ ears, unbidden from memory. _Never darken my doorstep again. I am done with you._ Shame replaced rage, and Remus swallowed. Too far. Lost.

 

Penny snorted. “Sounds like it might be right.”

 

“Who are these blokes, then?” Peter had managed to get a hold of one of Mary’s photos. Two rough looking men stood next to a pair of parked motorcycles. They wore vests emblazoned with elaborate embroidery. He squinted, “Gentry? What kind of name is that?”

 

Mary snatched the photo back. “Excuse you, those are mine.”

 

Peter slid back, hands up in a warding gesture against the glare. Mary might have looked like a sweet doll, but she had a temper. “Sorry, Miss.”

 

James took a spin at trying to regain control of the conversation. “Did they say where they were headed? Do you think we can catch up?”

 

Betty’s full force of charm refocused on James and she giggled before answering. “They were headed up to White Sands. They were about to visit an Auntie.” She blushed as the other girls all looked at her. She was certainly more developed than the other girls, long black hair and bright hazel eyes. “What?” She twirled her finger around a lock of hair.

 

“I thought you were told to stay away from them.”

 

“Old Triscuit didn’t notice. And Simon seemed nice enough. They’re retired servicemen. Always travel the coast and visit this time of year.” Triumphant, she fished out a folded piece of paper, “He told me to look him up sometime.” She squeaked when Remus’ hand snatched the paper out of her fingers, almost too fast to be seen.

 

He could feel James’ eyes on him, the weight of his disapproval oppressive. He’d memorised the number and address scrawled on the back before handing it back to the stunned girl. “My pardon.” Ah. The sheep look again. Ugh. He bowed at the waist. “Thank you for the assistance, ladies. We must go.”  

 

Remus’ hearing picked up a whisper. “Wow. Look at that.”

 

“I know. Did you see his muscles?”

 

“I’d let him teach me some tricks anytime.”  

 

“I dunno, James was more my taste.  Not so wild. Couldn’t take the other home to Mum, now could you?”

 

Remus pushed open the door, not caring to hear any more. Moony didn’t want sheep. He wanted Padfoot.

 

“Come on, Peter.”

 

“Blimey!”

 

“You should have asked for their names and numbers too, Betty.”

 

“Shut it! Triscuit’s coming!”

 

The door jingled and Remus could feel his two friends moving to follow him. He didn’t stop to confer or plan, ignoring Peter’s call to wait.  Giving in to his instincts he broke out into a long-legged run. His wolf sang in his mind with savage joy in the chase.


	8. Chapter Seven: Look Back

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94718081@N05/43509101442/in/dateposted-public/)

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Ah! That was excellent. Thank you, Aunt Mamie!” Joel sat back in his chair with a sigh of contentment. Aunt Mamie always had the best spreads. After two solid weeks of food on the road, he’d looked forward to this. Simon complained only yesterday that he was going to turn into a chip. 

 

Hot breath on his thigh alerted Joel to Louie’s presence. He’d been given a dish of dog food and Joel was pretty sure Louie hated it, and the bits that were spread about the bowl reminded him of a kid smearing his food about his plate to make it look like more was eaten to make Mum happy.  

 

Joel looked down at the dog with a smile, placing a hand on his head. Louie’s head cleared the table top easily when he was sitting, but reclined, he was level with the chair. He really was enormous. 

 

Coughing quietly, the elderly woman looked towards the door. She kept a staff to help with managing the house. “Of course, Joel dear. I do so enjoy your visits.” 

 

“Aces as always, Mrs Black.” 

 

Joel steeled himself, hoping that Simon wouldn’t belch his appreciation. He’d picked up the habit, justifying it as good manners. Aunt Mamie threatened to make him eat children’s tea and send him to bed early if he insisted on being so childish again. 

 

Louie suddenly straightened sat up. The movement was sudden, much like that of a dog who’d scented a cat or seen a bird. In this case, the mastiff wasn’t looking outside. He was looking straight at Aunt Mamie. There was a stillness about him that made Joel concerned, so he reached out and placed a light hand on Louie’s shoulders, ready to scruff him if he looked likely to jump up on the table. 

 

Smiling thinly, the elderly woman looked back at Louie as she chided her guest. “Now Simon, I thought we covered this three years ago. Aunt Mamie will do, dear. Just Aunt Mamie.” 

 

“Yes, madam.” 

 

The woman shot a dark glare at Simon, but her manners kept back any further comment on the topic. “Now, the matter of your new friend there. Is he going to sleep in your rooms?” 

 

Joel relaxed his grip on Louie’s fur. “If that is agreeable?” 

 

“Not on the bed with you, surely?” 

 

Simon laughed, “As if there’d be room for that. No, he’s always taken the floor by the door when we’re inside. Really, we were lucky days ago. Fight in the hallway almost knocked our door down. He sure was handy to have about.” 

 

“And I trust that he’s house trained?” 

 

Louie let out a muffled bark, as if he were offended by the very suggestion.

 

Simon looked to Joel to answer, “You know I’m not sure.” 

 

Joel watched Louie sink back down to a prone position with amusement. “Oh, I think so. We haven’t had any problems so far.” 

 

“And he walks on a leash?” 

 

Louie’s front paws covered his nose and he let out another low sound, this time a fair resemblance of a groan. 

 

Shaking his head, Joel answered. “Haven’t had a need. He’s always responded very well to simple commands. He knows sit, lay and heel for certain.” 

 

“What’s to stop him from running off the next time he sees a stray hare or a particularly irksome motorcar?” 

 

Simon shrugged. “I think he’s adopted us, Aunt Mamie. He was really in bad shape two weeks ago. You should have seen how skinny it was. He’s fattened up nicely on fish.” 

 

Sniffing, the old lady asked, “How did you come to find him? A kennel, I suppose? Really, did you have to pick such a large mutt? He nearly gave me a heart attack.” The questions were coming in rapid fire, a habit of Aunt Mamie’s. She’d always had one-sided conversations, especially when she was expressing her disapproval of something. 

 

“No, we found him in an alley.” 

 

Leveling a look at Joel that spoke of her disapproval of his presence in an alley of all places, Aunt Mamie asked the next obvious question. “What, had somebody binned him? Odd. He looks like he might be pureblooded although one can never be sure.” 

 

“No, madam. He was being used as a... Ah, um.” He waved his hands at the shocked look on the woman’s face.   “A punching bag, but for kicking.” Joel looked at Simon for help. 

 

“The little gits were kicking the life out of our poor Louie here, but he wasn’t fighting back. You know what a big heart Joel has. He couldn’t leave well enough alone, so we chased them off and took him with us.” 

 

Aunt Mamie’s gaze was trained on the table, as though she might be able to see through it. “I see.” 

 

Perhaps hoping to elevate his four legged little brother in their Aunt’s eyes, Joel hurried to explain. “He’s covered in all sorts of scars on his back and neck. I think someone must have used him as a dog in a fights, and either he escaped or was tossed out.” He wanted Louie to sit up now, so that she could see him. “But that’s all behind him now. He’s one of us. Right boy?” 

 

Silver eyes looked up at Joel dolefully. The very tip of the dog’s tail shivered in a tentative shake, one that Joel took to mean agreement. 

 

Sitting back in her chair, Aunt Mamie steepled her fingers together. “What if his original family comes looking for him? What will you do then?” 

 

“I guess we’d have to see. I wouldn’t want to let him go back to a life of dog fighting. I mean, he’s not really a fighter like that, see? He was the goofiest on the beach earlier today. A whole gaggle of school girls were cooing and fawning all over the big brute and all he did was lick their faces. He has a spark of mischief in him. And he’s very smart for a dog. Tell her about that first morning, Gentry.” 

 

Joel laughed and shook his head. “I was snug in dreamland and all of the sudden this fish is walloping me upside the face. It was still alive, but somehow Louie managed to catch it out of the surf. Even with a limp.” 

 

Aunt Mamie looked mildly impressed. “Really, now.” 

Encouraged, Joel added, “Right, and then he brought me a crab, big one. Surprised it didn’t get him on the nose when he sent it back. I didn’t have a pot to steam it in. But he brought back another good sized whiting, and we had a feast.”  

 

Aunt Mamie had a strange sort of look on her face, like she was trying to hold something in. When she spoke she sounded like she was on the razor edge, split between chiding the men and laughing outright. She always did have a decent sense of humour.  “Louie, come here.” She patted her leg. 

 

Joel and Louie stood together. 

 

“No, you sit back down, Joel, dear. No need to worry.” 

 

Louie glanced up at Joel as he passed him by and came over to Aunt Mamie. Joel had some experience with dogs and he could read the signs of shame in the way Louie slunk over, head lowered. 

 

“Tch tch. Sit, Louie.” She watched him a moment before she spoke again. “So is he licensed, then?” 

 

The dog’s head rose as Joel answered, “Well, can’t say we’ve looked into it. Found him a collar, well borrowed.” 

 

Louie shook his head once and was now looking Aunt Mamie straight in the eyes. 

 

“Such remarkable colour in an animal, to be sure. I’ve seen those eyes before, however.” 

 

Sitting very still, Louie’s only response was an audible swallow.  

 

Joel remained standing, not yet feeling comfortable sitting down. The tension between dog and woman was starting to worry him. 

 

“There is no doubt you are an unusual specimen, Louie. As you may recall, I have welcomed you to my home. I will abide by etiquette. You need not worry about me placing a call to the Min... well what is it about here? Yes. Animal Control.” She reached out a hand and patted him on the head. “I suppose you want something juicier to eat, do you?” 

 

Ears pricked, Louie offered a nervous waggle of his tail. “Whiiiiiine?” 

 

“Of course. Purebred beasts like yourself are so spoiled. Brought up on steak tar tare and caviar, no doubt. Good heavens, you must cost a fortune to feed like that!” 

 

Louie flattened his ears down, as if taking insult. His tail hadn’t stopped wagging, however. 

 

Simon looked on, the picture of ease. He’d not been worried, not like Joel.

 

Joel cleared his throat. “I don’t think he really liked the canned food, Aunt.” 

 

A wicked smirk pulled up the old lady’s expressive lips. “So I gather, but it was worth a go.” She called, “Walter, would you bring in another steak for my new furry nephew? Just put it on a paper plate. We’ll take it out to the veranda and watch the sunset from there. Oh, and I’d like a whiskey and soda, please.” She raised thin eyebrows, in askance to Joel and Simon. “Would you care for an after dinner drink?” 

 

As Walter, a bland looking middle aged man dressed in a suit and tie, appeared in the doorway Joel and Simon both agreed. “What she’s having, thank you.”

 

“Sounds civilised, might as well give it a try.”  Simon leaned on his vowels, drawing them out in what Joel figured was an effort to draw attention back to himself. He’d dressed in shirt, tie and jacket as was required of them at least on the first night and last night of their stay with Aunt Mamie. It was traditional. 

 

“Of course, madam.” 

 

* * *

 

Miles away at White Sands beach two men walked about, showing anyone who’d look a polaroid of a great black mastiff, asking for a dog who answered to “Padfoot.” Peter’s quick fingers lifted the photo from the girls when they were busy ogling Remus’ tight jeans back at the cafe. Jeans that Remus accidentally shrunk in the laundromat earlier in the week and hadn’t been able to replace. All of them were legal adult wizards now, but Remus having a Muggle for a mum tended to avoid using magic for such tasks. James thought it was hilarious at the time. 

 

Peter stopped, looking up the shoreline. “Where is Remus, James?” 

 

“He walked north. He seems to think we are close, although I’ve no idea if he’s picked up a scent or he just wants to believe it so strongly that he’s fooling himself.” 

 

“James… what if Sirius doesn’t want to come back with us? Moony’s going to be out of his mind. And tomorrow’s the full moon. What if Moony tries to kill Padfoot…? Shouldn’t we head back? I don’t like this, James. We had a hard time controlling him last full moon just the two of us and we had the shack.”

 

A hand on Peter’s shoulder stopped the torrent of worry that was bursting through.  James pointed to a distant Island. “See that?” 

 

Raising a hand to shield his eyes, Peter squinted. “Are you thinking to go there? Aren’t there people living there?” 

 

Confidence oozed from James as he released Peter’s shoulder, patting it fondly. “Only a caretaker for the island. I’ll write to Dad. I bet we can distract that person away from the Island for one night, and it would be an ideal place. Isolated.” 

 

Peter wrung his hands, “But what if Moony tries to swim away?” 

 

James shook his head, snorting. “The currents about that island are some of the worst in the world. They call that stretch ‘The Bitches,’ and there’s a competition every year to navigate it by sail. Moony wouldn’t be that stupid. And we can always pull him out.” 

 

Chuckling, Peter regarded the island with calculating interest. “Bitches, eh? Almost sounds like destiny. Well, I guess it might work. We won’t be able to easily persuade Remus away, will we?” 

 

Letting out a soul-deep sigh, James looked up the beach, finding the distant form of their friend. “No, I don’t think wild Abraxan would deter him, Wormtail. Not for all of the chocolate in the world.” 

 

* * *

 

Simon and Joel always helped Aunt Mamie with small projects about the house when they visited. That morning they’d finished replacing the broken shingles on the roof, while Aunt Mamie ‘supervised’ from a chair set out on the veranda. 

 

Having received Aunt Mamie’s approval, Louie explored the small property and the line of beach down below. He did return to their host’s side periodically, sometimes bringing odds and ends back. Mostly driftwood and the odd feather.  Late in the afternoon he returned with what looked like an antler grasped in his great jaws. 

 

Simon and Joel were taking a break, the pair making for a very sweat and dirty company for tea. Unphased, Walter served up lemonade in tall glasses and cucumber sandwiches.

 

“Well, what have you found now, Louie?” Aunt Mamie gestured to a flagstone by her chair, intending for the mastiff to drop it there.

 

Louie shook his head, almost as though he meant to try and worry the bone for its marrow. “Aroooo.” The sound was odd, although Joel supposed it must be because he had a mouth full of antler. 

 

Simon looked on in interest. “How many points is that, eight? Blimey. Must have been huge.” He held out a hand, wriggling his fingers. “Bring it here, boy.” 

 

Again Louie shook his head back and forth, this time with more force. 

 

Frowning, Aunt Mamie looked over. “What’s wrong, lad?” 

 

Joel’s jaw slackened as Louie dropped the antler to the ground, taking a step forward, standing over the prize protectively. Mouth free, he let out a series of miserable sounding whines, which lifted to a single high note. 

 

Pulling back the hand, Simon looked over at Joel. “You reckon he wants to go hunting? Wrong season for that, Louie. Wrong place too. Haven’t been deer like that in these parts for centuries.” 

 

Louie pawed at the antler again before looking at Aunt Mamie again. 

 

“I don’t think that’s quite right, Simon. No, I think my furry nephew just might be sad. That antler must remind him of someplace.” She narrowed her eyes, before amending the supposition, “Or someone.” 

 

That seemed to hit the proper chord, for Louie threw back his head and let out a long, mournful howl. 

 

Joel’s eyes blurred as he looked on. The dog’s voice ripped the peaceful place with the sharp edges of grief, and Joel could feel the prick of pain in his own chest.

 

Silence filled the place after the mastiff finished. 

 

Ten agonising heartbeats later a howl answered, faint and buffeted by the gentle breeze. 

 

Joel would have thought he’d imagined it, except Louie froze, looking in the direction that the sound originated from. 

  
  


* * *

 

James and Peter managed at last to catch up with Remus around four in the afternoon. They’d not had any luck so far, unless you count directions to the local pound as useful. 

 

They’d been visited by Mr Potter earlier in the afternoon. As James hoped, Ramsey Island was a good answer to their dilemma, a compromise over returning back to Lupin’s childhood home or the Shrieking Shack. 

 

The Potters had stumbled across many of the secrets that their brotherhood held sacred this past Christmas when Remus came to stay with them. Charlus was quite impressed, but Dorea took a good measure longer to accept that their only son was best friends with a werewolf-wizard, and had become an animagus illegally and in secret in order to help Remus weather the transformations. He’d arrived to their place from Hogwarts wounded, as had Sirius and James. They’d not been able to hide the truth from the sharp-eyed matriarch. All doubt melted away when they’d met Remus’ father and witnessed the cold treatment he received from his own blood. 

 

Charlus Potter was getting on in years, but he loved a good adventure and was an excellent ally. Dorea had different strengths, but from what Charlus said, she’d been working on trying to appeal to some of the extended family on Sirius’ behalf after confirming that he’d been cast out. 

 

The four were consuming cold chicken, fruit, and bread on a blanket laid out on the sands a goodly distance from the water, high up in the dunes. 

 

Peter was explaining to Charlus about how Polaroid pictures were made when Remus jumped to his feet, spinning about. “Quiet!” One hand was held up in a staying gesture, although the shock was enough to render the little company speechless. 

 

In the distance a faint howl could be heard, at the very outer edge of hearing.  

 

James and Peter looked at each other, silently mouthing the same name. “Padfoot.” 

 

Eyes wild and bright, Remus took in a deep breath and answered with a long howl of his own. The sound held the weight of a summoning call. His wizard’s throat wasn’t suited well, and was a mere shadow of what might have been if he’d been transformed. 

 

All four wizards listened, ears straining for an answer, one that didn’t come. 

 

Charlus looked on as James and Peter went to Remus’ side. The werewolf’s legs had given away moments before under the emotional strain, the tall strong man crumpling inward like a house of cards. Arms wrapped over his head, Remus broke into jags of agonised keening. His chest heaved, the intensity of his pain was frightening in the usually stoic lad. He was sightless, ears deaf to the soothing murmurs of his friends.  

 

“What is …” Charlus shook his head, clearly trying to find the words. “No, you don’t need to say anything. I think I understand what is going on.” 

 

Eyes worried, James looked at his father. “Dad, what do we do?” He looked upwards at the sky.

 

Charlus looked out to the island and then back in the direction that they knew Padfoot must be. “It would be most prudent for us to move Remus over to the Island now. We know we are close but we can’t afford any mistakes. 

 

Licking his lips, Peter asked quietly. “You think Sirius will come? I... things were left painfully. I don’t know what will happen when the Moon rises. He’s never been this bad.” 

 

A flare of frustration rose in James, “Merlin, this is a disaster. If only we’d found him yesterday. Damn him for doing this.” 

 

At last, Remus started to gain his voice back. “Prongs, no. My fault. I cast Sirius out. Me. I did this.” 

 

“It matters little, son. What we do know is that Sirius isn’t far and that this is a dangerous situation. We have to prepare for tonight, and we need to keep all of you safe.” Charlus stood nearby, arms crossed. 

 

Remus shook off his friends hands and clambered back to his feet, dragging his T-shirt hem over his eyes. “Maybe I can find him before moonrise.” He shifted his weight, his muscles tensing in preparation to run. 

 

Charlus stepped in front of Remus, wand out and held loosely at his side. “Stay, Remus.” 

 

Remus’ lip curled in frustration. It was getting more difficult to control wild bursts of aggression that surged in response to every obstacle. His friends were not obstacles. They are not enemies or rivals or food. Calm. Remain calm.  _ Calm.  _ If he could just get away… 

 

James moved to flank his friend, blocking the way, his fingers itching. 

 

“I can get to him, I know it.” The words tumbled from him and he began to pace in a tight circle, finding himself hemmed in by the others.

 

“No, Remus. I am sorry, I can’t allow that.” 

 

Wild gold eyes turned on Charlus’ face. “You will hold me here, then. What gives you the right?” 

 

“Easy, Moony.” James held his hands up in front of him. 

 

Peter looked up and down the beach. “Guys, we are in full view of a lot of people. Calm down.”

 

Eyes glittering dangerously, Charlus answered, wand tip still down. “The right I claim as your elder and stand-in father by the love my son bears for you. As one who knows what you are and wishes to protect you from yourself. Going tonight would be dangerously reckless, Remus. Stand down. You know I am right.” 

 

Pain twisted Remus’ voice as he answered. “I hate … this.” His hands shook as he gestured at himself and then the beaches to the north. 

 

Charlus’ voice gentled. “I know, son. I am sorry I cannot do more tonight, but so long as you both breathe there is hope. Hold on until tomorrow. We will find him.” 

 

Doubt flooded Remus’ eyes, and he crossed his arms in front of him. “You don’t know that. If he doesn’t want to be found he’ll be long gone by then.” 

 

James swiped a hand. “Stop it, Remus. If Sirius doesn’t want to be found we’ve already lost him. One night won’t make that much of a difference. We have to trust that he will wait for us. We don’t know where he is, or who he is with. Dad’s right.”

 

Remus dropped his head, feeling defeated. After a moment he nodded. “Fine. We’ll do it your way, but you need to take me now. As nightfall approaches Moony is gaining more and more control. Wait much longer and I won’t be able to stop myself.” 

 

Charlus tucked his wand up his sleeve before digging about in his pockets, drawing out two pairs of sunglasses. “Ah, here they are. These are Portkeys. I’ll activate this one now. The second will work at seven in the morning. Don’t miss it. It will bring you back to the house in Godric’s Hollow.” 

 

“Why there?” Remus shifted, looking warily at the sunglasses. 

 

James looked over his shoulder at his Dad before answering for him. “Because this isn’t going to be an easy night for any of us. I bet Mum wants to check us over before we take up the search again.” 

 

A nod confirmed James’ statement. “Exactly. This beach is one apparition away. There will be no harm in getting a fixed up and a shower.” He sniffed meaningfully. “You lads might think the surf is enough, but I have to tell you that all of you are in dire need of a scrubbing. You can’t expect to be received well looking like a bunch of vagabonds.” 

 

Peter lifted his arm and took a careful sniff, wincing. “Right.” 

 

The glasses meant for tomorrow were mean for a lady, but that didn’t stop James from setting them on the top of his head. He breathed out. “Right. Lets go explore Ramsey Island, boys.” He gave his Dad a half-hug before taking the men’s sunglasses from him. 

 

Remus flinched when Charlus touched him on the shoulder. 

 

“Son. It is going to be alright. Try to keep your wolf calm. Focus on tonight. Tomorrow will take care of itself.” 

 

Unable or unwilling to agree with the man’s confidence, Remus nodded once, tight-lipped and strained. 

 

The little group descended into a valley between the dunes, walking to a overgrown clump of grasses that provided shelter from prying eyes. 

 

As the Portkey began to glow a faint blue, all three young men touched the glasses. James bid goodbye, “See you in the morning, Dad. Thanks for all of this.” 

 

With that they disappeared in a whirl of movement and magic. Two breaths later, Charlus frowned before spinning on the spot, winking out of sight. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: An inconsistency in canon exists where there was a Charlus and Dorea Potter who appeared on the Black family tree and were felt to be James Potter’s parents. However, Pottermore later identified Fleamont and Euphenia Potter as James’ parents - which was stated outright (making inconsistency a bit strong of a word). For the purpose of this story I am sticking with Charlus and Dorea. Sorry, JKR. I like those names and family connections better. Maybe Charlus and Dorea were their middle names? Yeaaaaah. Bit of a stretch. *shrugs*


	9. Chapter Eight: Walk On

 

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94718081@N05/28664561947/in/dateposted-public/)

 

* * *

 

 

Mamie sat on the veranda, watching the sun heading down towards the horizon. In one hand she nursed a whisky and soda. Her other was occupied with stroking the mastiff’s soft black fur. She sent Simon and Joel into Newport along with Walter and strict instructions to do errands, but to stay in town and enjoy themselves, not to return until tomorrow after noon. She’d done this with Joel before, set him up with a nice girl, although he’d been rather foolish. He went to excellent schools, she’d not understood why he insisted on covering himself with such vulgar tattoos and wandering about as he did. She always suspected the French blood he inherited from his mother was to blame.

 

“So, will you change for me again? I’d like to talk with you, Sirius.” She lifted her hand away from the wizard’s back, and in a moment she felt the disturbance in the air as mastiff changed back to man.

 

Earlier “Louie” followed Aunt Mamie to upper bedroom. He’d been acting strangely and she’d thought that he was trying to push everyone inside. It was a good thing there was a bed for her to sit on, because the news that a potentially angry werewolf was looking for him was very much unexpected. The timing was terrible, but it didn’t take long for the old squib to scramble her household into a hastily disguised evacuation.

 

Sirius’ voice was the clear tenor of youth, not yet in his full growth or prime. His eyes were much older than his seventeen years should have allowed, but Mamie had a notion of just what the young wizard had been through.

 

The first words out of his mouth now were ones of concern. “Shouldn’t you go too, Aunt Mamie?”

 

“I have my own way to safety.” She tapped a pendant that she kept about her neck.

 

Naked concern was easily readable in the lad’s eyes, the colour of the sky in winter.

 

Mamie took a sip from her tumbler before she smiled. “You know, it is a bit strange that we are in fact related. By marriage, of course.” She tipped her head to the side. “Your family is too much for me. Good thing they disowned my dear Marius before he could suffer as you have.”

 

The youth’s fine brow pinched in pain. “Yes, well. I’m glad to be quit of them.”

 

“What was your plan, then? You can’t do this forever. Joel isn’t the brightest man, but at some point he’s going to notice that you aren’t a proper dog. Simon will probably try and figure out a way to turn a profit off of you, but I don’t think Joel will understand.”

 

Sirius bowed his head. “They have been so kind to me. I... I don’t think I would have survived much longer if they hadn’t stopped that day.”

 

Frowning, Mamie gestured to him. “All of this because of being cast out of the Most Noble House of Black. They aren’t worth all of this heartbreak.”

 

“No, I know that. It isn’t just that.” He turned his head and regarded her for a long moment before speaking once more. “I betrayed my … my _friend’_ s trust.”

 

Mamie took another sip of soda and whiskey, giving her mind a moment to digest that revelation. “Willfully?”

 

“Yes. No... I don’t know. It was a huge mistake. It was supposed to be just a prank.” He ran his fingers through his scruffy mane of black hair, grown out long enough to curl haphazardly about his jaw.

 

Heart sinking, Mamie waited in anxiety.

 

“I wish it hadn’t happened. I wish I’d never been born, this is unbearable.” He stood up and started to pace. “Things are so much simpler as dog.”

 

“Why don’t you tell me what happened, Sirius?”

 

Coming to a halt he looked down at her. “You’ll hate me too.” Before Mamie could protest, he growled in frustration, hand slicing the air in a severing motion. “What does it matter anyway? One more. You can tell me to leave, just like _he_ did. I’ll go quietly. After the danger is past.”

 

Ah, there was the diamond sharp truth that was at the heart of the boy’s pain. Abandonments. Multiple. He might be of age, but he was still a child. He couldn’t be eighteen yet. Mamie considered how to best continue. “Why don’t you start at the beginning.”

 

Wound tight, Sirius started to pace again as he spoke. “There are four of us that are... _were_ as close as brothers. All in the same House at school. Pretty early on, we noticed that something was wrong with Remus. He’d disappear for two days at a time, and we were told he was going to visit his sick mother, but he’d return with these terrible wounds that Madam Pomfrey couldn’t completely heal.”

 

Mamie blinked. “Surely not.”

 

He barked a hollow laugh. “We poked our noses where they didn’t belong.” His steps slowed as the story carried his mind along. “We snuck into the infirmary and looked at the Mediwitch’s private casebook.”

 

“You did WHAT?” Mamie was incensed.

 

He waved her down, “Yes, I know. It was incredibly nosy and arrogant and any number of sins, but I was twelve and convinced that one of my best friends was getting beaten at home.” He stopped and wiped his hand over his face, scrubbing away the embarrassment of youth. “Foolish notion in retrospect, but it was a familiar story. Entirely plausible.”

 

She’d already been told earlier. “Remus, he isn’t sick. He’s a werewolf. Would the Mediwitch really put that down on parchment?”

 

“Yes, the full ugly history was laid out in neat clinical language. He was bitten when he was quite small as a punishment for something his father said against the most notorious werewolf in the country, Fenrir Greyback.” His feet started with the pacing once more. “His father hated werewolves and had spoke openly against them, using his position at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to push an agenda that would make it all but a crime to breathe as a werewolf.”

 

Mamie set her glass down, losing her taste for the drink. “That’s extraordinary.”

 

“Extraordinarily unfair to Remus? I’d say so. What’s worse is that the bastard ingrained a deep self-loathing in Remus. He lived in fear of the day that the Ministry would come put him down, like his father keeps telling him will happen someday even now. Before he came to school he’d only transformed in cages, with nothing for the wolf to do but to hurt himself.” He looked at the antler, now sitting on a low table nearby. “We wanted to help him. I came up with the idea of becoming animagi, using magic to transform us into animals who could safely approach a werewolf. We did that so that we could be with him, distract him from that pain.”

 

Tears stung Mamie’s eyes, but Sirius kept speaking, not able to stop. There was a light in his eyes now, a spark of joy. Not a moment too soon, as she wasn’t sure her old heart to take much more.

“It worked incredibly well. The wolf settled down and for the first time had company through those nights. In time, when we were confident that we could control him, we were able to leave the that prison and let Moony see the sky, and run free for the first time in his life.

 

His steps slowed, and he _smiled_ at her. The transformation in the scruffy young man’s face stunned her speechless. He had no such trouble and he continued onwards. “With our support Remus started to change, to grow beyond his fear of the next full moon and what might happen. He trusted us to be the restraint that he couldn’t provide when Moony was in charge.” The smile faltered, flickering out of existence, like a light bulb dying. “We, the four of us, were unstoppable. We played wonderful pranks, and protected Remus from suspicion. That is, we did until three moons ago, when I betrayed his secret.”

 

She sat enthralled, silently willing him keep talking but also afraid of what happened next.

 

The youth stopped pacing and his tone as he continued was flat,“We have a classmate who was suspicious of Remus. He’d follow us around, and we’d always hated each other. He was looking for any reason to get us thrown out of school. One night, he pushed me too hard. I told him that if he wanted to find out why we sneaked around so much, to go to the place where Remus went to transform that night.”

 

Mamie’s hand flew her mouth, not fully covering the gasp of shock she made.

 

Sirius’ hands trembled and he grabbed his hair. “I … I didn’t think it through. Snape just made me so angry. I don’t think I really expected him to die, but looking back I wonder if that really was what I meant to happen. I thought it was inevitable, that he was going to discover us. Why not get it over with?”

 

She didn’t trust herself to say a word, keeping her hand pressed to her lips.

 

A strange laugh escaped him, “Snape was going to be a Death Eater as it was. Who’d miss him? Besides, he’s a really powerful wizard. I didn’t really think that he’d be in danger, he’d managed to get out of so many tricks and pranks.” He cleared his throat, in embarrassment. “I couldn’t have been more wrong. If it weren’t for Prongs, that’s my friend James, Snape would be dead, and Remus would have been executed for it, even though it would have been an accident. The result of a prank.” His voice was losing its colour, flattening to a dead tone.

 

Mamie stared at Sirius in horror. “He didn’t…?”

 

A bitter smile twisted Sirius’ lips. “No. James was a hero. He saved us all from my mistake.”

 

“If he saved you, why are you out here?”

 

“In the doghouse.” He lifted shoulder. “After that night, Remus was furious with me. I have no reasonable excuse, and I deserve every bit of vitriol he can muster. I thought about just going to him and letting his wolf eat me. It would have a sort of theatrical symmetry, but that would have even more unkind. I would have been the first human he’d have killed. I’d have made the monster of his nightmares into full reality.”

 

He wasn’t looking at her anymore. This confession was costing much. Had he not already unloaded the worst of it? He took in a deep breath and then continued.  “Remus and I were closer than brothers. We were… together. We _belong_ together. We’d promised each other, one to the other forever.”

 

Mamie’s hand fell from her lips, slack with the enormity of that single revelation. “Oh.”

 

Grieved eyes looked up at her now, “So you see, he is my love, my mate. Mine to protect. So when I did this, I betrayed my own heart. As was his right, he turned his back on me. Told me never to come back.” He gestured vaguely. “So that’s how I came to be in that alley. I decided that I would leave everything and see some of the world. It was easier to move about as a dog, so I spent more and more time in that shape, and after the second day I found that things were so much simpler when I wore the dog form. I hurt, but it was a little easier to bear.”

 

“What do you think Remus intends to do? You think he is hunting for you?”

 

Sirius shrugged. “It is possible that it wasn’t him, but it seems probable. I don’t know what his intentions are. Maybe he’s going to attack me after all.” He shook his head. “I won’t let him kill me unless he’s in his human form. At least it would be his choice, then.”

 

Mamie cried out in astonished indignation, “Of course not! You’ll do no such thing!”

 

“Ah, the Lady forbids me.”

 

She snorted, “You’re being a dramatic arse. You wouldn’t be here if outright self-destruction was your intention.”

 

He lifted a shoulder in grudging agreement. “I don’t want to hurt Remus any more than I have. My death… would be problematic for his wolf.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t know what would happen if I died. I suspect he’d go mad.” He sniffed. “So, I am trying to stay away. He has James and Peter still for company. He doesn’t have to be alone. At least we gave him that gift.”

 

Mamie moved up a shaky hand to wipe her face with a handkerchief. Tears gathered in her eyes as she tried to shove her own heart back down her throat.  Twilight was on them for the sun set as Sirius told his story. Silence stretched between them, and she knew that she had been quiet too long. “Oh, my lamb.” She stood up and took a step towards him. “Poor, foolish, lamb.”

 

“What?” He stared at her in disbelief. “Wait, didn’t you understand? This is my own fault.”

 

She hushed him, “Come here, fool.” She opened her arms to him.

 

“Well, if the Lady pleases.” He stepped into her embrace.

 

She snorted, “Stop talking. You’ve overwhelmed me with this burden, and if it hurts this much not being my own, I cannot imagine how much it must cost you to live with it. My capacity is nearly full up.”

 

Sirius stared at her, not understanding.

 

“In other words, I need a hug. You owe me this much, I think.” Her lips pulled up in a tight smile even as her eyes blurred over with threatened tears.

 

Hesitant arms wrapped about her thin shoulders, solid with the effortless strength of youth. He was awkward at first, as though he worried that she might break, but in time he too wept. Together they wept for his pain, the boy who was left alone in the ruins of his mistakes, girded about by regrets whose weight would have been too much for any adult to carry.

 

When they were both emptied out, he walked her back to the house.

 

“You should retire. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”

 

“Sirius…”

 

“ _Louie._ ”

 

She shook her head, “That isn’t your name.”

 

“I think I still want to use it for the moment. It belongs to a lie, but I still prefer life as Louie to this hell. Forget Sirius Black. He’s a walking ghost. I’d rather Louie was real.”

 

Sighing, she stepped through the door. “I wish I could persuade you otherwise.”

 

“Aunt Mamie, you must lock the door. Do not come out, no matter what you hear. And if you think Remus… if you think _Moony_ has come, you must leave immediately. Don’t worry about me. I have always been able to handle him. And, I need this assurance from you. These confidences are not rightly only mine to keep. You must promise not to reveal Remus as a werewolf, even if by some horrible twist of fate that he kills me.”

 

The heart in Mamie’s thin chest skipped a few beats before stuttering back into motion. “You really think that might happen?”

 

Sirius looked across the darkening sky, eyes drawn to the land horizon where he knew the moon was beginning to appear. “We are running out of time. _Please_ Aunt Mamie, I know this is an unfair request, but for Remus’ sake. Please, keep his secrets.”

 

Well, there wasn’t any other answer to give, was there? “Of course I will. I don’t like it, but I will do it.”

 

He nodded. “Thank you.” He turned away, looking off into the distance. “I will see you in the morning.”

 

“You’d better.”

 

Mamie didn’t usually drink more than two cocktails, but that night she poured herself a shot and knocked it back before retiring to her fitful rest.

  


* * *

 

Padfoot woke with a start. He’d spent the night curled up in a hollowed out dip he’d made in the sand under a tuft of tall grasses that marked the transition from scrub to beach. The morning was clear and the sea birds were picking over the stretch of beach left exposed to the sky by the receding tide. The beach was peaceful.

 

He gave himself a full shake before looking up towards the house. Was Aunt Mamie up yet? The sun wasn’t yet high in the sky, so probably not.

 

One of the gulls down there had chased him yesterday. That was good fun. Maybe they wanted to play again?

 

Padfoot slunk down the dunes towards the flat stretch of sand. He was too big to be stealthy in full daylight, but he kept to form. Close enough he broke out into a canter, barging through the section that was thickest with birds. Clouds of white-feathered ninnies rose into the sky, screaming in perturbation.

 

Gull-bowling was almost as good as pranking Slytherins. _Almost_.

 

A similar wave of angry gulls rose to the sky farther down the beach, attracting the mastiff’s attention and admiration. Padfoot stood, watching. That was when he saw them. Three humans, their forms painfully familiar were slowly making their way down the shoreline. A short, mousy haired lad with puppyish features and a taller sturdier one in glasses were holding up a third with sandy blonde hair. His arms were draped over their shoulders, and he looked bloody awful.

 

Padfoot watched in fascination as the little group staggered closer. Had they seen him? He tilted his ears, trying to listen as the wind buffeted.

 

“Moony, I swear on Hecate’s tits, if you ever do something like this again, I’m going to skin you and turn you into a rug.”

 

“Dunno, James. I don’t think there’s much fur worth looking at anymore. Better make it moccasins.”

 

“You think Lily would want a new set of slippers?”

 

“With real werewolf pelt? I think she’d be repulsed.”

 

“Better stick with the rug. What do you think, Remus? I hear jojoba is really good for the fur... uh hair. Needs to be thick and soft for my lady. I bet that’d be a lot of fun on cold winter evening. Or morning. Or whenever.”

 

A distinct sound of retching carried over the wind.

 

“Look, I know that werewolves seem to have this mysterious appeal to the witches, James, but the very idea of you using that to get into Evans’ pants is rather pathetic. Lily won’t fall for it.”

 

“Is that…?”

 

Padfoot had been enjoying himself but the good feeling drained out of him in that moment. James was looking straight at him and Padfoot froze.

 

The three men were about 100 yards away, and they came to an abrupt halt.

 

Peter let out a long, impressed, “Ooooooh. There you are, Sirius.”

 

Remus’ head shot up at the name and for the first time in weeks, _months_ , Padfoot met his gaze and held it. Lines of fatigue and stress made Remus look much older than his yearmates. The irises were hazel, and held no remnant of the gold-eyed Moony who ruled the night before.

 

“What should we do, James?”

 

“I think Remus can handle this, Peter. Stay quiet.”

 

“What if he runs?”

 

“He won’t. He’s not a coward.”

 

Remus straightened, absentmindedly shaking his shoulder as he took his full weight back on his own two feet. He was a frightful mess of bruises, cuts, and he had seagrass tangled in his hair. His clothes were soaked through, and had been mended again. His voice was hoarse, pained as he spoke the command. “Walk up.”

 

Padfoot lowered his head and stepped forwards slowly, deliberately. There were no sheep, only James and Peter, so this had to be what Remus had in mind.

 

“Eyes, gentlemen?”

 

“None this way.”

 

“South is clear, Remus.”

 

With every step forwards, Padfoot’s heart raced faster. The air, so pleasant before, seemed to clog his lungs, the sea air heady with its typical salty musk.

 

“Stand.”

 

Padfoot stopped, mere feet away from Remus. Tension drew out between them.

 

Remus stepped forward, holding out a hand. When Padfoot didn’t move, a small smile softened the lines about his eyes and he whispered, “That’ll do.”

 

The mastiff shuffled forwards and sniffed the extended hand, then he crouched down at Remus’ feet turning on his back to show his belly and neck. As he waited for a response, he gazed up at Remus with a hopeful shiver of the tip of his tail.

 

No one spoke as Remus extended his fingers down to smooth the hair on Padfoot’s head. The dog stretched his neck, pressing up into the wizards hands, his silver eyes closing and tongue lolling in canine bliss. Above him, Remus let out a long sigh.

 

It should not have surprised Remus that this moment was the calm before storm Padfoot struck.

 

The black mastiff cracked an eye and in the ecstasy of the moment he couldn’t hold back anymore. He was happier than he could remember, and there was no way he was going to be able to hide his joy.

 

In a matter of moments Remus was flat on his back in the cool sand, bowled over by the full force of a frantically affectionate 124 pound mastiff who wriggled, wagged, and slurped out his feelings with abandon. Chuckles and protestations of pain from Remus punctuated happy barking. After repeated attempts, the prone wizard gave up on trying to escape and simply wrapped his arms about the barrel of Padfoot’s chest, pressing his face into the soft fur of the dog’s neck.

 


	10. Chapter Nine: That'll Do.

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94718081@N05/28664562297/in/dateposted-public/)

 

* * *

 

Mamie sat up in the house, peering through a pair of binoculars at her nephew, Sirius, playing in the surf and chasing gulls. She’d only known him for a short time, but he was very different from what her dear departed Marius led her to expect. A fond smile lit on her red painted lips as he nearly lost his footing on a hairpin turn.

 

Her smile vanished as she noticed three strangers approaching, two holding up a limping third. Louie allowed them to approach, standing stock still.

 

When they stopped several years away, she stood and moved closer to the window, leaning into it, wishing that she could just hear what was being said.

 

A commotion in the room behind her startled her into dropping the binoculars. Her old heart batted against her ribcage like a paddleball, and she turned to see her boys entering.

 

“Aunt? Are you alright?”

 

Joel stepped in to give her a dry kiss on the cheek, and Simon followed suit, handing her the binoculars.

 

“Who is that down on the beach?” Simon was the first to notice, sharp as always.

 

Mamie closed her eyes, breathing hard, trying to master herself. “I am not entirely sure.” She looked between the two men, her mind whirling. “You two are back early.”

 

Joel answered distractedly, “I had strange dreams last night.” He was watching the little group with eyes narrowed.

 

“He dragged us out of bed, nattering on about something being terribly wrong.”

 

Feeling better, Mamie levered herself back to a standing position and walked to the window. “You are very sweet, Joel, but it wasn’t necessary. Haven’t you youngsters been introduced to the telephonic method of… ”  The words died in her throat as she took in the scene down on the beach.

 

Two of the youngsters stood arm and arm, watching the third being love-mauled by their Louie, monstrous black mastiff shape wriggling in unchecked joy.

 

“Oh… oh thank Merlin.” Her hand sought out Joel’s arm, clutching him in what she meant to be reassurance. “Everything will sort itself, loves.” She looked into the confused faces and laughed.

 

Simon frowned in doubt. “Louie hasn’t a collar on. I should go down there and check on them.”

 

“I’ll come with you.” Joel’s hand patted on Mamie’s before he tried to step away from her.

 

She didn’t let go immediately. “Why don’t you invite those youngsters up to the house?” She pursed her lips before adding, “Well, at least to the veranda. Louie’s been playing with the gulls. He’ll need to be hosed down before he can come in.”

 

Joel nodded, “Of course, Aunt. If they’re the right sort.”

 

“Walter! We have guests! They’ll want tea, I think.”

 

The tall man presented himself in the doorway. “I see you must have been expecting them. On the veranda?”

 

Ignoring the faint tone of reproach in her manservant’s response, Mamie turned back to watch Joel and Simon head out on their mission. “Yes, thank you.” She hoped they would be civil.

 

“Madam is just in here. Madam Black, the Potters.”

 

Mamie pulled her attention away from the window. “Who?”

 

A couple stepped into the room, a gentle faced gentleman with salt and pepper hair cropped short, and an elegant lady on his arm whose silver eyes shone with uncanny intelligence. “My name is Charlus Potter, and this is my wife, Dorea.”

 

Dorea smiled politely as her husband stepped forward, lifting Mamie’s extended hand to his lips.

 

Mamie wanted to pull away immediately, offended by the familiarity. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

 

“Charlus. I think you had better go down there while I acquaint our hostess with the circumstances. I wouldn’t want any _misunderstandings._ ” Dorea spoke with the confidence of one accustomed to being obeyed.

 

Mamie frowned at the rude interruption, starting to wonder if she needed to call the authorities. “Not so hasty, if you please!” Her irritation intensified as the man bowed to her and left, ignoring her very reasonable request. “I beg your pardon!”

 

“Madam Black, is that your wedding photo?”

 

“Yes, but I don’t know what that has to do with you or your invasion of my private residence.” Mamie took a step towards the door, intending to call Walter.

 

“Please, indulge me for a moment more and all will be explained. You are Mrs _Marius Black_?” Mrs Potter stood, caressing the ornate frame with a light touch.

 

Mamie stopped in her tracks. “How do you know that?”

 

Bright silver eyes met Mamie’s hard look straight on. “My name is Dorea Potter née Black. Marius was my brother.” She crossed the room, reaching out to clasp Mamie’s hands. “By strange, wondrous fortune I find that I have a sister.”

 

* * *

 

They’d been standing there for what felt like an eternity, waiting for Padfoot and Remus to hug it out. The scenery was pretty but there was only so much time and patience one could burn looking everywhere but two of his best friends who happened to be madly in love doing unbearably adorable things to one another. 

 

Peter was working out puns, “Ille-gull. Gull-ible. Re-gull. Winging it?”   

 

James shook his head. “I egret challenging you. You are terrible at this.”

 

“I swear James, I’ll tern a new leaf. Owl make you laugh.” Peter’s face was solemn but the twinkle in his eye and the quiver of his nose gave him away.

 

“You bustard. Tou-can play at this game.”

 

Peter burst out laughing. “I call fowl, those aren’t native.”

 

Cutting a bow, “Point to Peter.”

 

“Louie! Louie, get off.” A burly, balding man dressed in jeans, boots, and a white tea with the arms ripped off puffed to a stop. He had alarming tattoos, shoulder to elbow that were displayed for all to see. At least one was of a _naked lady_. James was transfixed, speechless.

 

The great mastiff’s head lifted, giving Remus a moment’s reprieve. “Whuff!”

 

Chains swung from his belt as the man stepped closer. He was holding a spiked collar loosely in his hand. “I’m sorry, he really is very friendly.”

 

Another man, this one taller and pinched faced with bleached blonde hair cropped short stepped up next to him. “Gentry. I don’t think he’s attacking, mate.”  

Padfoot whuffed again, dropped his head to lick Remus once more and then pranced towards this “Gentry” fellow who looked rather relieved. “Good boy, Louie.” He scrubbed Padfoot’s face with surprising familiarity before slipping the collar over his head.

 

The other Muggle stepped forwards, offering a hand to Remus. “Here, are you alright? Dog has no sense of propriety.” When Remus took the hand he muttered, “Up you come.”

 

Remus stood shakily, blinking. “Padfoot.”

 

“Ah, strange name. I’m Simon. Nice to meet you, Padfoot.” He shook Remus’ hand with a wry smile that dropped in a moment. “You look worse for the weather.” Sharp eyes fixed on Peter and James, whose clothes were ripped and skin sported a multitude of wounds, although nothing to what Remus bore. “All of you are in pretty bad shape, innit.”

 

“Stop it, Louie!” The thicker one was being head butted towards the boys and was struggling to stay upright. When he didn’t get the idea, Padfoot grabbed onto one of the chains swinging from his belt and towed him.

 

Peter found his voice first. “What Remus meant was that that isn’t Louie. That’s Padfoot, he’s ours. Well, Remus’ I suppose.”

 

“And who are you, exactly?” Simon stepped back, eying the group.

 

James found his voice at last. “My name is James, James Potter. This is Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin.” He gestured with an open hand towards the black dog who was bouncing around the group in tight circles in his excitement. “And that’s Padfoot. Who’s been a very naughty boy and run away from home.”

 

“Right, well that’s Gentry.”

 

The thick man’s face was blank, stunned. Padfoot dropped the chain and then worked his head under Gentry’s hand, lifting it up like one might move a doll towards Remus. When he didn’t get the point, Padfoot jumped up, jostling the hand up, like a seal might do a ball as part of a circus act. “Oh, right. My name is Joel Black.” He reached forward and gripped Remus’ hand that Padfoot was pushing up with his head too.

 

Remus’ voice was rough with emotion. “Do I have you to thank for looking after my… after my heart?”

 

* * *

 

“... after my heart?”

 

Joel was trying to work out what that meant when Louie dropped to a crouch, letting out a strangled howl.

 

The teen wobbled dangerously. “P… Padfoot?” Colour drained out of his face and his grip slackened.

 

Thinking fast, Joel stepped forward, moving his grasp farther up Remus’ arm.

 

Simon exclaimed, “Blimey!” He was at the lad’s other side as he started to crumple downwards to the sand like a marionette with cut strings.

 

One of the other youths, who Joel was uncharitably chastising in his head called out, “Father, over here!”

 

A pudgy man who introduced himself as Charlie claimed the boys. “Mrs Black wants us all up at the house. I think we’d better get you inside before anything else happens. You know you should not have been out hiking after dark.”

 

The sound of the man’s chiding followed Joel and Simon as they shifted to lift the unconscious teen in their arms and laboured with him back up the path to the house.

 

When they were quite near, a woman hurried towards them, wringing her hands. “James! Peter! There you are at last, and poor Remus too! Where is Siri…”

 

“Muuuum. We’re _fine_. No need to fret. Remus is just tired. He had a long night.”

 

Aunt Mamie appeared behind the new woman’s shoulder. “Ah, you’ve brought them up here.” She looked down at Remus’ empty face and cooed, “Don’t they all look so angelic when they’re asleep like that?” She flapped her hands at Joel, “What are you waiting for? Take him inside. Walter! Hose Louie down please and towel him off. Can’t have those muddy paws all over the floors.”

 

Joel could just hear her say, “The yellow room, dear!” It was the only guest room on the ground floor. He was sweating as the lad was heavier than he looked and Simon didn’t look much better off.

 

After they deposited Remus on the bed and shucked off the lad’s sodden shoes, the lady stranger appeared at the door. She seemed familiar, but Joel was certain they’d never met before. “Thank you, kind sirs. I’ve some physicking skills, so if you’ll step out I’ll take it from here.” She smiled sweetly, but her eyes were hard as steel. This was not a woman to be crossed.

 

Simon opened his mouth to argue, purely on principle, but Joel put a staying hand on his shoulder and spoke over him. “You will call if you need assistance? We could help undress the lad.” He felt his cheeks heat up at the suggestion of impropriety.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s like a son to me and no danger to anyone.” She waved her hand dismissively, and Joel suddenly had a strong urge to find somewhere else to be. Simon was already out the door, but Joel looked back as he reached to close the door. The lady was hiding a smirk, although he might have been mistaken.

 

Joel went in search of Padfoot, and found him still outside.

 

“I think that’s best, don’t you, Padfoot?” The man, Charlie, was down on one knee before Padfoot who was dripping all over the patio.

 

Padfoot snorted once with a definite nod of the head. Charlie made the mistake of looking up, and was sprayed by the black mastiff as he gave a hearty shake from nose to tail.

 

“Rude animal!” Charlie’s chiding was half hearted and he laughed as he wiped his face with his open hand.

 

Walter hovered nearby with towels in hand and Joel crossed over to relieve him of the burden. “I can take care of this, thanks Wally.”

 

The manservant winced at the familiar address, but passed the old towels and disappeared moments after Joel caught the wet dog and gave him a thorough rubbing down.

 

Two teens who had been down on the beach stood in, watching. The taller one with a bush of messy black hair, James, was holding a leash.  

 

Aunt Mamie stood by, her eyes abstracted. “So that’s it, is it? Just like that?”

 

Joel froze in place, his arms settling about Louie’s shoulders in a protective hug, towel hung over the dog’s back.

 

The portly man stood. “I am afraid it would be best to get Padfoot back to his usual state as soon as possible. We need to build trust from the foundation up. His original… breeders want nothing more to do with him, taught him with cruel efficiency and some of those lessons need to be unlearned even now. I never thought he’d run away from us.” He sighed. “Thank you, Joel, and Simon. You’ve cared for Padfoot when we could not. My family owes you both a boon, should you ever need it.” The man produced a pair of cards with the name and address of a solicitor. “This is my contact. Please do not hesitate to call us.”

 

Simon plucked both cards out of Charlie’s hands. “That’s right nice.” He turned worried eyes on Joel who had not yet released Padfoot.

 

A light hand pulled on Joel’s shoulder. Aunt Mamie murmured, “Come on, dear. It is time for Padfoot to go home.”

 

Squeezing the dog for the last time, Joel looked over at the boys, “You’ll watch him better this time, yeah? Make sure he is safe? Happy? He’s a special dog.”  His throat choked up, and he patted Padfoot one more time before letting go.

 

In the blink of an eye, James had the leash about Padfoot’s collar and was walking him away. “Thanks Mr Joel and Mr Simon. And Mrs Black.” The other one, Peter went with him.

 

“Mrs Black. Mamie, today has been a revelation. Would it be too much trouble if my wife stayed on with you, to care for Remus?”

 

Aunt Mamie inclined her head. “I’d like that.”

 

Charlie turned to follow the boys, but paused at the side. “Oh, and I think I shall send your nephew to you later today. The one I was telling you about, who is out of sorts at the moment.” He winked.

 

“Really, that soon?” Mamie raised her eyebrows in surprise.

 

A chuckle preceded the answer, “He’s always been quite eager. I doubt wild horses could keep him away.” He turned, looking around vaguely. “Right, I’d better be off. Thank you all again.” He nodded to Mamie before disappearing out of sight.

 

Mamie moved to usher them all back to the veranda. “Tea?”

 

Joel shook his head, trying to sort out what just happened. “I think I need to go for a ride. Simon, will you stay here? Help Aunt Mamie with the other guests?”

 

“Sure Gentry. Whatever you need.” Simon always understood.

 

* * *

 

Remus came to consciousness slowly. His body ached, and it seemed to him that everything throbbed with every wave that he could hear crashing on the beach. The aftertaste of a potion he didn’t remember consuming lingered in his mouth, bitter. A door opened, letting light into the dark room. On instinct, Remus inhaled, and his senses were flooded with the familiar scent. He whispered, “I know you’re there.”

 

“I am sorry. Remus.” That rich timbered, particular voice pulled Remus the rest of the way to full alertness. He’d imagined this moment many times over the past days. He’d duelled Sirius, shouted at him, turned him away, beat him, and snogged him senseless, but now all of those wild fancies flew out of his head. His heart howled, _Sirius is back_.

 

“Sit.” The edge of the bed dipped down under Sirius’ weight, and Remus shifted, laying his head comfortably on his mate’s lap.

 

Gentle fingers combed through Remus’ hair. It felt wonderful.

 

Lips pulling up in a smile, Remus whispered, “Stay.”

 

Sirius nodded, causing a hot tear to splash onto Remus’ cheek. “How long?”

 

Remus pursed his lips, “Forever and a day sounds about right.”

 

The soothing fingers spasmed, clutching Remus’ hair. “Are you quite sure? Because I’d understand if you wanted to start slowly, you deserve a fresh start.”

 

It was a dream, had to be. “You’ll have to stop seeing those witches.”

 

“None of them were serious, you know.”

 

“Stupid bitches.”

 

The dark haired wizard bent down. “Waaaait. Were you jealous?” 

 

“No.” Remus closed his eyes.

 

“Not even a little?” 

 

Yellow eyes snapped open and focused on Sirius’ downturned face. “Mine.”

 

Eyes widening, Sirius breathed, “Yes, yours.”

 

Wolf and man surged up together, knocking Sirius down to the mattress with a growl. 

 

Gasping, Sirius looked back up at Remus with shiver of excitement. Every hair was up on end as Remus dropped his face to kiss his mate's neck, inhaling deeply of the heady scent. 

 

Below, Sirius let out a low whine, and the rippling tension of muscle and whipcord told Remus how much Sirius was mastering himself in order to please him. It was a start.

 

Remus moved his lips up past the beautifully defined jaw, and filled Sirius’ ear with a low murmur. “That’ll do.”

 

Tears blurred Remus' vision as Sirius turned his head and kissed him carefully, tenderly. He didn't care anymore that his own heart betrayed him. If this one love could be truly his, he'd die a thousand times over gladly. The tight band of emotional restraint that had held him back snapped, and Remus let himself go.

 

* * *

 

 **Epilogue:**  

It was past dinner when Joel finally came back to the house. He’d traveled far, his mind searching for clarity in the thunderstorm of emotions that threatened to divest him of his reason. If asked, he wouldn’t be able to say why he let this happen to him, but it both hurt and made him happy to know Louie… Padfoot was back where he belonged.

 

When he pulled into the house there was a lanky looking youth with merry grey eyes and black messy hair sitting on Simon’s motorcycle with too much familiarity for Joel’s comfort.  

 

“You, what are you doing there?”

 

The youth hopped off with a wide grin. “Waiting for you, cousin. Is that a Triumph?” He stalked over to Joel’s bike, grey eyes drinking in the details. “What year?”

 

Joel turned off the engine and swung a heavy booted leg over, trying to orient on the teen who was circling the bike, drinking it in with greedy eyes. “1968. Tiger.” Well, he liked it too. Wait, what did he say? “And who are you again?”

 

The lad’s hair was left long, hanging about his neck and in Joel’s opinion made him look like a vagabond. He was a shade too thin, but the mischief in his eyes made Joel like him immediately. “Sirius. I’m Sirius Black, your cousin several times removed. Aunt Mamie can explain the family tree better, later. Now, tell me more about this fascinating machine.”

 

* * *

 

That was how Simon found the pair: Sirius sitting cross legged on the ground and Joel perched on his bike, talking as the sun set.

 

Aunt Mamie stood next to him and was the only person who heard him murmur, “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. Is that who I think it is?” He’d noticed the black bandana with skulls on that Sirius wore about his neck.

 

“Yes. You can’t say anything to _anyone_ , or my sister in law will have to do something we’ll both regret.” Mamie was quite firm.

 

Simon tipped his head back and looked up at the darkening sky with a soft laugh. “No one would ever believe me anyway.”

 

Aunt Mamie leaned against Simon. “I know, darling.”

 

“You know, I’m actually glad. Joel’s heart broke when they put that leash on him and led him away. What about those others, are they all weredogs too?” His brain whirled with more questions.

  
“Yes and no, love. I beg that you forget you know anything, as those questions are dangerous. Things are often not what they seem, lad. Especially around the Blacks. Louie… _Sirius_ owes you both a life debt. He won’t forget. A Black always honours his debts.”

 

* * *

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94718081@N05/42692856135/in/dateposted-public/)

 

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-love goes to [Coromandel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Coromandel/pseuds/Coromandel) and [ScarletDewdrops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletDewdrops). Thanks also to readers like you!


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